Her Forever Family (9 page)

“S
o, why did you spend so many nights hanging out at the house and then just stop showing up? What kind of flaky doctor does that to a kid?”

“Ethan! Where are you manners?”

“It’s okay.” Ali assured Benjamin she hadn’t taken offense. “We agreed the first night to shoot straight so he’s entitled to his opinions.” She turned her attention on Ethan. “I’m entitled to mine, too. And you know what I think? I think you are selectively disabled.”

Ethan paused momentarily from the business of shoveling ice cream into his face as if someone might take the rest away at any moment. Ali was continually amazed by the eating habits of teenage boys. Even Simba showed better sense, taking her time over the dinner bowl.

“What does selectively disabled mean?” he mumbled with his mouth full.

“It means you have control over when you panic and
when you remain calm. That choice is always within your ability.
You
have to decide when and how to exercise the control, just as you are today.”

“So, you’re saying I’ve been faking it?”

“No, you’re definitely a mental case.” Ali paused, waited for the smirk she knew the inappropriate comment would get from Ethan. “What I’m saying is you’re lazy. Kiddo, when you’re motivated your abilities are far beyond what you give yourself credit for. And one day soon I’m going to prove that to you.”

She took another luscious spoonful of sweet cream and cookie dough, then looked to Benjamin for his reaction. For the most part he’d steered clear of her discussions with Ethan, not judging or interfering. Today he seemed to be doing the same. If it bothered Benjamin for Ali to criticize or issue challenges, he didn’t let it show.

“So, when are you two going to have this outing at the university library?” Benjamin asked.

Ethan stopped scraping his plastic spoon around the edges of his container. “Yeah, when? I really need to know.”

Asperger’s made the boy rigid about his schedule, so Ali understood his need for a timeline. But even with a plan he could still get overanxious and refuse to cooperate. Because today had been so successful, she felt the element of spontaneity might be more effective than days of planning and hours of worry over the timing.

“Patience is a virtue you know so little about, Ethan. But I’m working out the details,” she said softly, knowing it was not the answer he wanted.

“You promised,” Ethan whined. He pushed his bottom lip out, once again reverting into his childish other-self.

She glanced at Benjamin, noted the tense set of his jaw, the building aggravation. It had to be difficult for such a driven and successful father to watch his only son morph from snotty teen to insecure child in the blink of an eye. Neither was attractive and both were disappointing. She prayed they would make further strides together. But Ethan was who he was and only God’s hand could permanently change that circumstance. Benjamin may have to be the one to change instead.

She risked touching Ethan’s arm in an effort to reassure him. “Yes, I promised and I keep my promises. We’re going to have a fabulous time, and we could go right now if we wanted to be around a bunch of other people. But if you’ll hold your horses a couple more days you’ll get a closer look at everything. Okay?”

Eyes downcast, Ethan nodded as he slipped his hands beneath the table outside of her reach.

Benjamin shrugged and pursed his lips, an unspoken
What did you expect?

Ali checked her watch. “Guys, the ride in the Scream Machine was awesome and the sundae was fabulous. I will cherish it for weeks to come.” She patted the side of her hip knowing her comment wasn’t entirely a joke. But the rest of her day would require a lot of energy. Maybe she’d burn some of the calories before they took up permanent residence on her thighs.

“We’ll head back just as soon as you tell us about this Rescue Round Up you mentioned before.”

“Oh, right.” She needed to bring Ethan back into the conversation so he wouldn’t sulk all afternoon and spoil the day with his dad. “Hey, you remember Harry and Sid don’t you? They were the crew who lifted us out of Big Bend.”

The boy grunted, sufficient encouragement to continue.

“Well, every year we get together with other rescue units to compete for team and individual honors. It’s not anything official, just fun and braggin’ rights, but you know how much that means to a Texan.

“Anyway, I participate with the guys from West Texas Rescue in the obstacle relay. I climb and rappel individually and then Simba competes against other working dogs in physical strength and commands.” Ali turned to Benjamin who was listening intently enough to make up for Ethan’s fixation on his empty cup. “That’s a day when you can truly appreciate how smart she is. It might even make you want to pet her.”

Benjamin shuddered, raising his shoulders to his ears and shivering as if something had just crawled up his spine. Ali laughed at his silly antics.

“Could I go?”

Ali and Benjamin swiveled their heads in Ethan’s direction. “What?” they chorused.

“I want to watch.”

“Sounds doable to me,” Benjamin agreed as he turned to Ali. “Could we come?”

“It really isn’t a fancy to-do, guys. I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed when you show up at the park and it’s just a makeshift obstacle course with a bunch of daredevils eggin’ each other on.”

“How about this—we’ll come cheer for you and after you and Simba win I’ll take us all out for a celebration dinner?”

“Wow, that’s a nice offer. What are you willing to do, Ethan?”

He jumped to attention. “What’s this got to do with me? I just wanna watch.”

“If we have to sing for our supper, you do, too. How about this? After the competition is over some of our family members get to harness up and climb the wall or put on knee pads and experience parts of the obstacle course. As long as you’re willing to do one or the other you can come.”

He slumped in the chair, silent.

Ben watched his son, almost certain he would refuse the challenge. But there was something about Ali that made Ethan want to please her, be close to her. Ben understood—he felt the same. Using her as bait to get Ethan out of the house today was pretty low. But it had worked! And now what had initially seemed disrespectful felt more like a stroke of genius. It gave Ben an open-ended excuse to be with Ali even if it was initially for his son’s benefit. This bond between her and Ethan was just what Ben was praying for, so he’d grabbed the opportunity like a cornerback grabs an interception.

“Come on, buddy. That’s fair and it sounds like a lot of fun. What do you say?” Ben encouraged Ethan, hoping he’d go along.

“It’s not fair at all. Ali has to work hard and I have
to try something scary. All you have to do is pay the bill and that’s no big deal for you.”

His son was right. “Okay, you name it. What do you want me to do to make it even?”

Ethan looked at Ali. The two gazes locked and the small nod that passed between them would have been missed by most people. For a split-second Ben felt a pang of jealousy. Someone had been successful where he’d failed. Just as Ethan and Ali had snickered over her “mental case” wisecrack before, the two had broken the nonverbal sound barrier right before Ben’s eyes. The stinging moment of envy came and went like a puff of smoke in a gust of wind. Insignificant. All that mattered was moving Ethan forward. Giving back his life. Restoring their future and making Ali a part of it.

Whatever his son chose for Ben’s part of the plan, it would be worth it.

“I know exactly what price you should pay.” Ethan rubbed his hands together, enjoying the thought of what he had in mind. “Why don’t you guess?”

“Okay, let me see,” Ben pretended to think hard. “A new high-def television?”

Ethan shook his head. “Nope. Guess again.”

“Umm, how about a driving lesson in the Scream Machine?”

“Nice, but keep guessing,” Ethan insisted.

Ben glanced at the wall clock. “Ali has to get back to her house, so why don’t you end the suspense?”

Mischief spread across Ethan’s face in a way Ben hadn’t seen in years. The triumphant look in his son’s eyes was priceless.

Thank you for this moment, Lord!

“If I climb higher than ten feet you have to sit with your arm around Simba for five minutes,” Ethan announced.

Ben’s stomach lurched. He took a sip of water to force down the ice cream that threatened to surge up into his throat. His face filled with heat and prickles of sweat broke out beneath his cap.

He was afraid of that animal. Ethan knew it. Ali knew it. And when the time came the dog would certainly know it.

Ben couldn’t refuse. Wouldn’t refuse.

Ali laughed, a comforting sound even if it was at his expense.

“Smooth move, kiddo!” She praised Ethan, then turned to Ben. “So, what do you say? Are you gonna run with the big dogs or sit on the porch?”

“Good one, Ali,” Ethan caught the obvious pun.

“I thought so.” She beamed.

Ben stalled his response with a question. “Is there any chance this was a setup?”

“What difference does it make, Dad?”

“Yeah, Benjamin. You’re the one who threw down the gauntlet. Now, what’s it gonna be?”

Ben willed his gut to stop the nervous churning it had experienced at the nearness of a dog for as long as he could remember. To his parents’ recollection, there had been no trigger event to cause the trauma. He’d tried hypnosis once to exorcise the embarrassing reaction. When that failed he reconciled to keeping a barrier between himself and canine creatures. And it had worked until Ali had become part of his life.

“Come on, Dad. Don’t be a chicken.”

“How can I possibly refuse such heartfelt encouragement from my son?”

“So, you’re in?” The incredulous note in Ethan’s voice was second only to the delight in his eyes.

“Yes, count me in.”

The cheer that went up from their small table drew more stares than usual. Ben glanced around and smiled apologetically. His eyes stopped on a familiar face. He raised his hand in a half-hearted wave, then groaned quietly when his cousin left the waiting line for the popular ice cream parlor and headed their way. There was no time to whisper a warning.

“Well, if it isn’t the family celebrity.” The tone was light but not enough to cover what was intended as a biting comment.

“Hello, Gerald.” Remembering the good manners his mama had taught him, Ben stood and extended his hand. “Ali, this is my cousin, Gerald Lamar. He’s the editorial chief at the
Standard-Times
. Gerald, this is Doctor Alison Stone. Of course, you know Ethan.”

Gerald ignored Ethan and focused on Ali.

“I’d recognize Doctor Stone anywhere and I must say the pictures I’ve seen didn’t do her justice.”

“As much as I’d like to take that as a compliment I know the photos you’re referring to and even a brown paper bag over my head would have been an improvement.”

Her lips were pressed together as if she had more to say. She didn’t stand or offer her hand.

Good for you, Ali.

“I doubt you’re interested in an accurate quote, but you may repeat me as saying your publication showed incredibly poor taste in choosing a few pieces of silver over the facts.”

Gerald laughed. “Ah, she’s a spunky one, Ben. No wonder you’re out having ice cream with her when you should be hosting a political fundraiser. Or are you still on the fence over whether or not to run?”

“When I’ve made a decision you and the rest of our family will hear it first and from me.”

“I hope you’ll give the
Standard-Times
an exclusive. You know we’d strongly consider endorsing you.”

“Again, we’ll have that discussion when it’s appropriate.”

Gerald glanced toward the parking lot, then engaged Ben in a stare down.

“It’s a nice day to be cruising in your daddy’s big Cadillac. But you know Laura Epps hit the ground running as soon as she announced her campaign. According to our poll she’s already ahead of you and the other wannabes because she’s proved she’s in it to win it. The longer you hold out, the more people are gonna think you’ve lost your edge. But I know you’ll make the right decision for Ben Lamar. You always do,” he sneered. “If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.”

With his parting shot fired, Gerald nodded and left their table.

“He’s a jerk.” For once Ethan’s bluntness was apropos. “Why did you let him speak to you that way? You shoulda punched him.”

“Politics can be a mean business sometimes, son.
And I let Gerald say those things because he’s right. I’ve been on the fence too long.”

Fish or cut bait.

Run with the big dogs or stay on the porch.

If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.

Ethan was sitting in a public place showing just the improvement Ben had been praying for. Now, his cousin’s words were like the two-minute warning.

It was time Ben got his head and his heart in the game. This was sudden death with no instant replay.

S
unday was Ben’s favorite day of the week, and it had nothing to do with football. Though he’d enjoyed the previous day’s excitement with Ethan and Ali, Ben treasured the Sunday morning hours as he joined in praise songs that reverberated from his satellite radio. Then he worshiped at the church where he’d come to faith and been baptized as a boy, and finally ended the morning with a late brunch at the country club. With Mrs. Alvarez back from her vacation and at the house with Ethan, Ben was free to resume his weekend routine.

Waiting at his favorite table he glanced around at some of San Angelo’s finest citizens. Well-heeled oil and cattlemen sat tall, proud of their expensively dressed wives. Ben grinned as he remembered scenes from the eighties television series set in Dallas where J.R. and Bobby had entertained lavishly at the Baron’s Club. This room might be absent all the public drama, but the
West Texas gentry seated nearby were every bit as proud of their heritage as the Ewing brothers.

A second and closer look failed to reveal even one natural redhead with a long braid and dangly silver earrings. It jolted Ben to the toes of his boots to realize he was no longer comparing the other women to Theresa.

The beauty on his mind these days was Alison Stone.

He grew warm sitting in the sunny window and signaled a nearby waiter to slant the blind. But even positioned in the shade the troublesome heat did not abate. And Ben knew why. The temperature increase was
internal.
The sensation had been happening for days and he no longer made the effort to deny the source of his discomfort.

He was falling in love with Ali.

She was under his skin and she’d tunneled right to his heart. She was amazing, talented, open and honest. Ethan was smitten by her approach to him and to life and Ben was admitting right here and right now, his future was moving in an unexpected direction and he seemed powerless to stop it.

If Ali weren’t so adamant about her Sunday private time he’d have invited her to join him. Her down-to-earth approach to everything would help in today’s dealings with Randy and the park conservation group Ben would be meeting in the afternoon.

“They said you’d be at your usual table.” Randy’s greeting was casual, as though their recent differences hadn’t occurred. “You’re gonna have to be a little less predictable when you get to Washington.”

“What would you suggest I do differently?” Ben
stood to give his friend a handshake and slap on the shoulder, then waited to see what pearls of political wisdom Randy would toss out today.

“Well, for starters, sit with your back to the wall so those liberals from the left coast can’t sneak up behind you.” He chuckled, only half joking.

“I’ll take that under advisement.” Ben picked up the menu, though he knew it by heart. He needed to avert his eyes for a moment while he considered the dark feeling that settled over him as Randy took a seat to the right. Was it switching gears from a loving revelation about Ali to the matter of his campaign that had Ben’s spirit confused?

“Just a Cobb salad and ice tea for me,” Randy told the waiter.

Ben ordered Eggs Benedict with freshly squeezed orange juice. His usual. He folded his hands and leaned on the table.

“Okay, tell me about these new folks you want me to meet. Where did you find them?”

“I’ll be blunt, Ben. After that mess at your house between Doctor Stone and Sanders Boyd and then the way Boyd retaliated, I thought it best to move toward a less controversial subject. City park conservation and growth should be safe ground to get the campaign launched.”

Ben held his palm outward. “Back up a minute. Are you telling me you know for sure Boyd is responsible for that photo in the media and all the junk Ali and I have put up with ever since?”

Randy leaned against his chair, taken aback by Ben’s question.

“Well, I don’t know for
certain.
I mean, he didn’t call and brag to me or anything like that. But it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

“I followed the same logic. I just feel badly about silently accusing the guy when I have no proof.”

Randy shook his head. “I really don’t get you, Lamar. We’ve known each other, what? Twenty-five years? And you never say a negative thing about another person, even when they deserve it. They won’t know what to think of you on Capitol Hill.”

“I hope they’ll think I’m a Christian man who’s committed to walking the walk.”

“Okay, whatever.” Randy reached into a sleek, black crocodile attaché case, pulled out several pages of handwritten notes and began coaching for the afternoon meeting.

Several hours later, Ben stood in the spreading shade of a majestic Chinquapin oak. He and a small group representing the Lend a Hand Foundation met at Halfway Landing, an antiquated city park in desperate need of rehabilitation. With newer recreational areas to choose from, this site was in serious decline and overgrowth. Sadly, the neglect not only affected a historic area where brave, western-bound settlers were buried, it also dragged down the property value of the homes of the nearby senior citizens who couldn’t afford the move to more upscale, desirable neighborhoods.

Ben felt an instant connection with this project. Here was an area where he could literally roll up his sleeves
and get involved. It might even be something he and Ethan could do together.

“So, now that you’ve seen the place you can probably understand why we were so excited when Mr. Mason contacted us. Having you announce your candidacy from this site will give our foundation some positive media attention.” Mary Barker, the self-proclaimed ringleader of the group grinned and elbowed Ben. “A little something you and Doctor Stone could use, right?” she murmured conspiratorially.

As much as he’d thought the rumors about his private life would be water off a duck’s back in a day or two, he’d been wrong. He was accustomed to being in the spotlight, took it in stride. But the insinuations about Ali had gone on too long.

“Mrs. Barker, that situation was entirely innocent, I assure you. If I had anything to be ashamed of I wouldn’t be asking you fine folks to support me.”

She ducked her head, probably wishing she’d left the sensitive subject alone. When her eyes met his again they glistened with apology.

“I’m sorry for such forward teasing, sir. You’re known to be a Christian man and I shoulda been more respectful. But I say it’s always good to acknowledge the elephant in the room and then leave the door open so he can leave when he’s ready.” She shoved her hand outward and Ben grasped it, glad for the offer of friendship. “We’re happy to have you on board with us, Mr. Lamar.”

“Please, call me Ben.” He glanced toward the cleared area in need of mowing, benches and tables that required repair and the surrounding woods overgrown
with patches of briars and scrub brush. “Would you mind if I take a look around by myself? I’d like to step off the boundaries and see just how much reclamation work there is to be done. When I hold the press conference I want to be able to speak to this particular project from personal experience.”

“Oh, please do. We need hands-on volunteers, folks who aren’t afraid of muscle aches or grass stains. You’ll be a perfect spokesperson.” Her broad smile twisted into a frown of concern. “Only, take care about the south border of the property. The area along that fence line is always filthy with vagrant trash. When the sheriff has time to donate an afternoon we’ll get it cleaned up. But everybody’s afraid to go out there without a police escort. There’s no tellin’ what dangerous no-accounts hang out in those woods.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, not believing there could be that much to worry about. So, a few transients left their burger sacks behind. How bad could it be?

Ben agreed to contact Mary that evening with a press conference date as soon as he spoke with Randy. The Lend a Hand volunteers headed home for Sunday supper and Ben changed into his hiking boots for a closer look at the park and cemetery.

By the time the fence ran out and made a ninety-degree turn to mark the southern border of the property, Ben was sweaty from the oppressive afternoon heat and itchy from mosquito bites that swelled up like goose eggs. But other than the buzzing of hungry flies the wood was mostly quiet.

What appeared to be a cluster of moss-covered stumps
in the distance turned out to be a dozen or more crude grave markers. Ben dropped to one knee, gave thanks for the blessings in his life and prayed for the unknown souls of those long ago laid to rest beneath his feet.

“This isn’t right. These people were courageous and they deserve respect, not an anonymous hiding place.”

He imagined what the cemetery must have looked like almost two hundred years ago, chosen for its peaceful silence interrupted occasionally by chirping or croaking. It would take equipment and work to restore the setting, but it was doable and so worth the effort.

Voices in the distance brought Ben to his feet. He should turn back. He recalled the warning about “dangerous no-accounts” but his nerves were undisturbed by fear. He turned his hearing to the sounds and listened for anything audible. Now and again there was laughter, young male and female voices.

Kids?

He had to find out.

The thick cushion of brush absorbed his steps, keeping his approach quiet as he moved toward the sounds. A flash of color sent him ducking behind the thick trunk of an evergreen. He peered around the knobby bark feeling like a coward but figuring safe was better than sorry.

A woman’s voice floated above the others, sending a series of shivers down his spine like aftershocks following an earthquake.

Pop-ping! Pop-ping! Pop-ping! The quiet of the wood shattered with the tinny noise of pellets bouncing off a metal target.

The woman laughed and called out, “Y’all are gonna get us thrown in jail!”

The husky voice was unmistakable.

Ali.