Family Ties (7 page)

“I can see that.” Andie stooped over and hugged her. “Did you have fun at Missy’s house?”

“Uh huh.” Chloe’s curls bobbed up and down. “Really, really lots of fun.”

“Sounds like you’ve made a good friend.”

It seemed as if the little girl just realized his presence. “Are you mad?” she asked him.

“Chloe.” Andie’s tone was sharper than he’d ever heard. Maybe the kids didn’t run the place like he’d feared.

“Mad? No. Why would you think that?”

“’Cause you were mad when I visited your house. I promised Andie I’d never go in there again, unless you invited me.”

Andie looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Mr. Mills was angry because you trespassed, young lady. Rightly so.”

“No, I’m not angry any more, but I was annoyed at the time,” he answered truthfully.

“It’s time for dinner. Call your brother and his friend, and your sister, then go wash, please.”

Chloe crossed to the basement door, opened it and shouted, “Dinner time.” She slammed the door and ran down the hall, presumably to the bathroom.

“There’ll never be an energy shortage with Chloe around.”

Andie pressed her lips together, holding herself to a small grin. “Not a chance.”

A few minutes later, Gray returned from the washroom. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Uhm...no, not really.” Andie looked around the kitchen. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind carrying the lasagna to the table for me, that’d be a big help.”

Gray nodded, then quickly stepped out of the way of the jostling pair who bounded up the stairs.

“I get first dibs.”

“No way, I called first.” The shorter boy shouldered the other one out of the way and rushed through the kitchen and down the hall. Both wore baseball gloves.

“The taller of these two is Billy and the shorter one is his friend Jake.”

Gray moved across the small space toward the counter. “I see.” He tipped his head toward the lasagna. “Have you got something to put it on?”

“Get out of my way. It was my idea.” As the two whirlwinds raced behind him on their way to wash, Gray stepped further out of the way, just as Andie turned to check on the disturbance. Right in front of him. Facing him. Her gaze searching his. Acknowledging it. He felt himself lean forward. Saw through narrowing slits as his eyes closed. This was definitely a mistake, but it had been a long time since he’d flirted with a woman. Even longer since he’d really wanted one.

Eyes closed, feeling her breath against his, about to take what she offered, Gray felt a hand on his hip.

“What’cha doing?” Chloe chirped.

He didn’t jump. And he was proud to admit it. “Nothing. I’m going to put the lasagna on the table.”

“It looked like you was going to kiss Andie.”

Gray looked from the pip squeak who was making his life miserable to the woman he’d almost tasted. “Not with all you kids running through here.”

“If we was gone?”

“Well, you’re not, so it doesn’t matter. Besides, the question is none of your business.” Andie’s voice was firm.

“Why?”

He had to give Chloe full marks for courage, he thought as Andie slipped around him.

“The pot holders are on the cupboard Gray, if you wouldn’t mind bringing it into the dining room.” She cupped the girl’s head with her hand. “Did you wash your hands Chloe?”

When the little girl shook her head, Andie looked down at her. “Then what are you doing in here? Go. Now.” She pointed toward the hallway.

After they watched her leave the room Andie turned to him. “Sorry about that. I hope she didn’t embarrass you. Chloe always says whatever’s on her mind.”

“No harm done.” He lifted the heavy pan and took a deep breath. “Smells great.”

“Thanks. You can put it on the table,” she said, waving a wooden square at him before placing it on the table. “Here.”

Gray did as he was told. Candles decorated both ends of the long wood table. Seven place settings, all on bright blue mats included silverware spread out the way his mother liked it. She’d have approved of everything here. He frowned. Except the stemmed glasses beside each plate.

“Do you prefer red or white wine?”

“Uhm, doesn’t matter. Red I guess.” In truth he’d prefer a beer, but he didn’t mind the occasional glass of red.

“I was hoping you’d say that, since it’s what I’ve got open.” He watched her pour the deep burgundy into a glass at the head of the table and one beside it, then set the bottle on the buffet.

He glanced back at the glasses beside the kids’ dishes. Maybe she sensed his confusion. “Would you mind getting the juice from the fridge, Gray? It’s a big jug of red juice. Cranberry.” Her smile reduced his fears.

He shrugged. “A person never knows.”

“I know you think I don’t keep a close enough eye on my children, but believe me, I don’t allow them to consume alcohol.”

Embarrassed, he mumbled “Sure,” then strode into the kitchen and pulled the jug from the fridge. He also took a four-liter jug of milk. Closing the fridge door with an elbow, he returned to the dining room and put them on the table.

“Great. Thanks.” Andie was smoothing matching paper napkins at each place. “Get ready.”

Footsteps pounded up the stairs and more came running down the hall. “It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them not to run in the house, they don’t seem to get it.”

“Not a big deal,” he shrugged. He’d never been allowed to run in the house, only he’d never really understood why. His mother had told him it was for his safety but that seemed irrelevant at the time. Come to think of it, she’d had a lot of rules he hadn’t agreed with – like insisting a sitter stay with him until he was thirteen. He frowned remembering the last argument they’d had over that one. It was only when he’d threatened to run away if she brought in the sixteen year old neighbor girl that Pops had finally stepped into the fray and agreed with him.

As he watched the kids scrambling to seat themselves, pushing each other out of the way, laughing and teasing, he realized how different it was from his home. He’d always been expected to come to the table quietly. Manners had been pushed down his throat until he’d rather not eat than hear another lecture.

“Gray?” The question in Andie’s voice caught his attention.

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat. “Yes?”

“Will you sit here?” She indicated the chair beside the head of the table.

“Sure.” Without thinking he pulled out her chair and helped seat her.

“Thank you. It’s been years since I’ve had a man do that for me in my own home.”

“With boys this age?” he growled around the table.

“Especially with boys this age,” she replied, as the kids watched him. “They only think of filling their tummies, not manners. Besides,” she glanced around, love shining in her eyes, “there’s more important things in life for guys than pushing mom’s chair in for her.”

He didn’t agree, but he’d never given it much thought. Ma had always expected him to be her little man, at the same time she watched over him like a baby every moment. Almost as if she was afraid he’d disappear if he wasn’t in her sight.

Something about that idea twisted his guts.

Andie’s voice seemed to come from far away bringing Gray’s attention back to her. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

“Do you want some salad?”

“Sure.” Gray put a good sized helping into the bowl beside his plate and passed the serving bowl to Bonnie, then lifted his plate to Andie for a serving of lasagna. The aroma was still enticing. The spicy layers were dripping with mozzarella – his favorite cheese. The kids were still talking around him. But everything felt out of kilter, except for the burning in his gut. He was getting used to that.

***

Night. Dark. Humming to himself as he walked along the sidewalk alone. In the spotlight. Happy. Skipping.

From black to bright daylight in the blink of an eye. From skipping to stillness - he couldn’t move. Feet stuck to the sidewalk, he twisted and turned, trying to free himself. To lift them so he could go home. Home. An image of a big house fenced with white pickets danced just beyond his vision. So close. But nobody was home. The gate was locked. The door was shut. His feet were cemented in place.

A smiling face. Ma’s. Hurrying him. Pressuring him to come along. To get in the car. Her hands grabbing him. Lifting him off his feet. Pulling him. He twisted, trying to get away. Fought. Didn’t want to get in the car. He wanted his mommy.

Dark. Night. Alone.

Total overwhelming terror.

Gray jerked awake, momentarily caught in the dregs of the nightmare. Sucking air in, he tried to still his racing heart. What the hell was
that
about? He wanted his mommy? When she was trying to put him in the car?

He shook his head and slid up against the headboard, punching a pillow behind his back. The dreams were coming more often. And they were weirder. He scrubbed his hands over his face, removing the sweat and the tension. It didn’t make any sense.

He’d had bad dreams as a kid. Screaming dreams that woke the whole house. He remembered Ma fussing over him, trying to comfort him, while Pops stood in the doorway to his room, his face sad.

He’d had those dreams, or ones like them, every night for a long time. A fleeting thought about a woman teased his memory then disappeared. Gray held himself still, his eyes sightlessly looking to the corner of the room as he searched for the elusive thread just out of his reach.

He exhaled heavily, shaking his head. It was gone, whatever it was. He rubbed his hand over the base of his skull, releasing a few of the knots in his neck. Whatever that memory was, he knew it was important - for some reason. And it might be connected to his nightmares.

His mind wandered back over the images. His mother pushing him into the car, in a hurry. That was nothing new. She was always in a hurry – always trying to get him to move faster. He’d been stuck in place on the sidewalk. What was that about?

Frustrated, Gray dropped his chin to his chest. He had no idea what any of it meant. Or if it meant anything.

He checked the alarm beside his bed, then slid back down under the sheet, pulling his pillow into place. He had to get some sleep – today was going to be a long one if he was going to begin catching up the time lost last night, even though he’d enjoyed dinner and helping Jamie make his model.

He settled down and allowed his mind to drift then remembered he’d wanted his mommy in the dream – not Ma but his Mommy. How stupid was that? He’d never called Ida anything but Mother or Ma. Nothing else seemed appropriate. Nor felt right.

He punched his pillow again, forcing it into shape, and willed himself to relax against it. Morning would come early enough without him trying to make himself crazy over something that made no sense.

***

The kids next door were at it again, Gray realized, as he walked around the side of the house to the back door. It seemed they got more boisterous every day. Tonight he was too tired to care.

It had been in the high nineties all day. And he’d spent a total of ten hours working inside – without air conditioning. The house was going to be a beauty. But on a day like today, when he’d worked like a field hand without a break, he didn’t really care. He wanted a cool shower, a cold one or two and a cool spot to drink them in. He headed straight for the fridge.

He twisted off the cap of his beer, then tipped the bottle and opened his throat, allowing the golden brew to slide down where it would do the most good. He shrugged one arm out of his open shirt, then shifted the bottle to free his other hand from the dirty, sweaty work shirt he’d worn most of the day.

“Are you’se going to take your clothes off again?”

The child’s voice nearly caused him to drop his beer.

“Are you?”

He turned to see Chloe standing at his back door.

“Andie says I’m not supposed to see men who have no clothes on.”

“She’s right.”

“Well are you?” When he didn’t answer, she gave him a look that suggested he deserved sympathy. “You know, take off your clothes?”

“Not while you’re here.”

“Good.” She stepped into the kitchen. “I’se been playing and I’m firsty.”

“And the reason you didn’t go to your kitchen for a drink?”

“Your kitchen is closer. I’se hiding in your back yard.”

Gray nearly erupted. “What are you doing in my yard? I told your mother you kids can’t play here.”

“We aren’t. We’re playing hide and seek in our yard but I didn’t want the boys to find me, so I came over here.”

“How’d you get into my yard? It’s fenced.” Gray wanted to be angrier than he was feeling, but couldn’t muster the energy tonight. He was just too damned tired.

“I squeezed through the boards at the back. One’s loose.”

“I see.” He nodded, knowing full well she’d find the only loose board in the fence – even if it was only marginally loose.