Wife-In-Law (26 page)
For how long?
“She told me Claude took her with him to Al-Anon meetings,” Daddy said, “and it helped her so much that she worked her way through the steps to the one where she makes amends for past wrongs. That’s when she paid somebody to find me, then called to apologize for lyin’ to you and the judge, and sendin’ back all my letters.” He tightened his embrace. “That’s why I’m here. She’s making amends to both of us.”
Would he still be so gracious if he knew it all? “When you were packing to leave, Mama told me you had another family, one that wasn’t crazy, so I let you go and hoped you were happy.”
Daddy let out a low whistle, but maintained his composure. “There was never another family. And precious few women at work. I was so angry with your mama, and so obsessed with getting you back, that I ended up running off the few half-decent girls I met.”
Was there no end to the lies Mama had told me? But I could spend all night bumping into that, and it wouldn’t do a bit of good.
Daddy was back, and I meant to make the most of it. “I’m
so
glad you’re here. How long can you stay?”
so
glad you’re here. How long can you stay?”
Daddy cocked his head. “Well, that depends.”
Good. He didn’t have a deadline. “Where are you staying?”
He shifted, uncomfortable. “Well, I haven’t actually found a place yet. By the time I got through security and rented the car at the airport, then got stuck in traffic, I barely made it here on time.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Then you can stay here, as long as you want.”
My father was back!
“Don’t get up, Daddy. I’ll fix us some supper.” What did I have in the freezer? “Do you still like butter peas?”
He grinned, relaxing at last. “Love ’em.”
My daddy was back! I had a million questions, but before I could ask them, the phone rang, and I flinched, fearing it was Mama, but it was only Kat. “Hey.”
“Hey. Are you okay? I just saw that car parked in your driveway, and I—”
“I’m fine. As a matter of fact, I’m fabulous. Thanks to Mama, which is an irony of galactic proportions, I am sitting here with my long-lost father.”
After a startled pause, Kat exploded with, “Ohmygosh! What’s he like? What does he do? Where does he live?”
I covered the mouthpiece of the phone and told Daddy, “My best friend Kat, who lives across the street, wants to know where you live and what you do.”
Daddy exhaled heavily, his mouth flat, then confessed, “I used to manage a car factory, but the company went bust, taking our pensions with it, so now I am involuntarily unemployed.”
Ouch.
“What’s he saying?” Kat demanded.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Daddy didn’t skip a beat. “So I lost my house,” he went on, matter-of-fact. “Then the condo I was renting went into foreclosure. That’s when your mother found me. Worked out perfect. So I packed up and came here.”
“Betsy!” Kat scolded. “Tell me what he’s saying.”
For the first time in forever, I hung up on her. “Oh, Daddy. I’m so sorry you went through all that.”
Then the most brilliant idea in the universe struck me. “It gets really lonely here by myself,” I told him. “Would you be willing to try living here? I’ll be traveling with Kat a good bit, and you could look after our houses while we’re gone.” A man had his pride.
Shame tightened his expression. “Darlin’, that’s a real generous offer, but you don’t even know me. I couldn’t just horn in on your life like that.”
“Oh, yeah?” I challenged. “Who says? You know nothing about me either. Like how I butted in when I found out my ex was cheating on my best friend across the street, and she accidentally killed him, and it was all my fault? Got anything to top that?”
Daddy’s eyes widened. “What was that again?”
“Infidelity, manipulation, and murder, to put it in a nutshell. But don’t worry,” I told him. “The DA dropped the charges, so Kat got double the insurance. Enough to hire me as her personal companion. Or accomplice, more accurately.”
“And I thought
my
life was colorful,” Daddy said wryly.
my
life was colorful,” Daddy said wryly.
It might have been colorful, but he was still my beloved father, and that was all I needed to know. “Trust me, there’s lots more where that came from. But if you move in, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about all that. And about your two beautiful granddaughters, and your amazing great-granddaughter and grandson.”
Daddy brightened. “Okay,” he said, “but I have to warn you: I never lie, which can get awkward.”
I closed my eyes with a grateful sigh. “Truth. What a relief
that
will be.”
that
will be.”
“You’ve got to promise you’ll tell me the truth, too, if I ever do anything you don’t like,” he qualified.
“Done!” I stuck out my hand to shake, and he took it in affirmation.
We were hugging when Kat burst in—she has a key—wearing her new fur coat over flannel pajamas and big, fuzzy blue slippers, her hair like Medusa. “Don’t tell me this is all over but the huggin’,” she demanded. “’Cause if it is, I want an instant replay.”
I laughed. “Daddy, this is my best friend, Mrs. Greg Callison, aka Kat-with-a-K, from across the street. She knows no boundaries when it comes to our friendship.”
“It’s about time you came back,” she scolded Daddy as she shook his hand. “Betsy thought you were
dead.
” She motioned to me. “And this is
my
best friend, Mrs. Greg Callison the first, who hung up on me just when things were getting good over here.” She turned back to Daddy. “So fess up. What did I miss?”
dead.
” She motioned to me. “And this is
my
best friend, Mrs. Greg Callison the first, who hung up on me just when things were getting good over here.” She turned back to Daddy. “So fess up. What did I miss?”
Daddy winked at her, then came back with a sassy, “Betsy can tell you
her
secrets if she wants, little girl, but I’ll hang on to mine.”
her
secrets if she wants, little girl, but I’ll hang on to mine.”
Kat was captivated. “Well, aren’t you the daddy?”
“Daddy just retired,” I told Kat, “and I asked him to move in with me.”
Kat sized him up. “You’re not gonna try to come between us, are you?”
Daddy laughed, then told me, “I like her. She’s a straight shooter.”
“And a Democrat,” I retorted.
Kat refused to be deflected. She folded her arms and stared at Daddy. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Daddy’s eyes crinkled with smile lines. “I will
never
try to come between you.”
never
try to come between you.”
I started to change the subject, but Kat raised a staying palm my way and asked Daddy, “Do you use drugs or alcohol, and how much?”
“Kat!” I glared at her, even though I was dying to know the answer.
“Just lookin’ after you,” she told me, then confronted Daddy yet again. “Well, do you?”
Daddy faced her squarely. “Clean and sober since 1991. I find life a lot better when I’m not under the influence.”
It was true, I could see it.
“Good,” Kat said. “That just leaves one more question.”
Daddy and I braced ourselves.
Kat suddenly seemed very young, and very fragile. “I could use a father too. Do you think you could adopt me?”
Daddy pulled her to his side with one arm, and me with his other. “Works for me, as long as it’s okay with Betsy.”
“It’s very okay with Betsy,” I said without hesitation. The Daddy I knew had room in his heart for all of us.
Kat let out a long, relieved sigh, wiping her eyes free of tears, then pulled away and headed for the front door. “On that note, I’m goin’ to go home to sleep for three days, and I don’t want to hear a peep from either of you.”
“Bye,” Daddy and I said in unison.
When the door slammed, he motioned to a chair at the table. “You must be whipped. Sit down, and let me do the cooking.”
My eyes widened. He cooked?
Of course he cooked. He’d fed me and Mama all those years, and it was good.
Thanks be to God. I got my daddy back, and he could
cook
! “That would be great.”
cook
! “That would be great.”
While he was concocting something that smelled wonderful and singing country gold in the kitchen, I went to my little office and e-mailed Mama, thanking her for giving me back my father, and assuring her that I forgave her for what her illness drove her to do. (Okay, so the forgiveness part wasn’t true yet, but I was working on it, so one day it would be.)
Mama e-mailed back with humble thanks, swearing that she would never, ever stop taking her meds again, a promise I prayed she could keep.
“Supper’s ready,” Daddy called, and I thanked God and my mama for bringing him home. And for the fact that I am now, officially, the highest-paid, happiest professional accomplice a best friend ever had. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Though I briefly lived across the street from my ex-husband and his new wife, whom we both knew years ago from church, that is the extent of any similarities to real life and the contents of this book. All the characters and events in this novel are entirely fictional and do not bear any resemblance to actual events or real people, including my ex-husband (who is gentle and talented) and his second wife (who is a warm, Christian woman). I remain grateful to have them in my life.
First, I’d like to thank all my readers who e-mailed me at [email protected] to tell me they liked my books. I print out and respond to every one, and when I’m discouraged, I get out those letters to cheer myself up. Works every time. God bless you for the encouragement.
Special thanks, as always, go to my wonderful editor, Jennifer Enderlin, who pulls the best out of me, even when I’m recovering from surgery. Thanks also to my agent, Mel Berger, to whom I am deeply grateful, despite the wretched contract clause. And I deeply appreciate the support from my faithful friends in Georgia Romance Writers, my new friends and fellow Christian authors in the WORD chapter of American Christian Fiction Writers, and the great folks at the Atlanta Writers Club and the Atlanta branch of Pen Women, committed writers and talented souls, all.
Extra-special gratitude goes to my longtime friend Magistrate Court Judge Bill Brogdon for information about the court systems, and for being such a wonderful gentleman that he restores my faith in the male gender. Thanks too to his wife, brilliant Julie, who always “gets it.”
When it came to writing this book, I needed a lot of help figuring out how to be accurate about what happens in Sandy Springs, Georgia, when somebody dies under suspicious circumstances. So I owe a debt of gratitude to Erica Hosley of the Sandy Springs Police Department for information about false alarms. And thanks so much for help and information from Gail Picard of the Fulton County Superior Court, April Champion of the Fulton County Criminal Courts, and Jennifer Bagwell, senior attorney with the Hall County District Attorney’s Office. And special thanks to Sgt. Lindstrom, detective with the Sandy Springs Police Department, for generously taking so much time to answer my questions. If I made any mistakes about procedure, they are mine and mine alone.
Thanks to my friend Anna DeStefano, a wonderful writer and a great driver and traveling companion who carted me to St. Simons Island for the Scribblers’ Retreat Writers’ Conference after one of my surgeries last fall.
To my usual support group, I must name you, because I’d never be able to do this without your friendship: “Miss Debbie” McGeorge, my pal and my grandchildren’s favorite librarian; to Doug, my friend and a reader par excellence who keeps me up with what’s good on the bookshelves these days. Thanks go to all my friends in John and Sharon Summers’ Small Group Bible Study, mighty prayer warriors who’ve been there for me through the storms of life; to all my single friends in Wade and Mary Ash’s SPLASH Small Group Bible Study (I need all the help I can get) at Blackshear Place Baptist, my amazing church in Oakwood, Georgia. You haven’t heard a sermon till you’ve heard Brother Jeff preach. Every time I do, I leave renewed, thinking, “You know, God, between You and me, we might just be able to do this thing.” Thanks to Brother Scott and Brother Dave for offering help and support to our congregation. And a special dose of gratitude and admiration for my friend and brother in Christ Ken Miller, who has used his strength to help me when my arthritis keeps me from doing what needs to be done at home.
Personal thanks and good wishes go to my longtime friend and bridge partner, Roslyn Carlyle, one of the smartest, funniest women I know. Aren’t we lucky that heaven’s just a breath away?
And thanks to my wonderful roommate, Sandi Grimsley, for being a prayer partner and a shoulder to cry on. Thanks for the friendship—and the rent. God bless you.
And to my next-door neighbor, Celia Dasher, thanks for being such a wonderful neighbor over the past thirty-nine years, and for feeding the cats and the fish when Sandi and I are away.
Thanks to my instructors, Dr. Guerty, Dr. Warwick, Dr. Shields, and Dr. Nicklas, for the wonderful teaching and encouragement. I love Gainesville State College, and if I live long enough, I might just graduate. Special thanks to Carolyn Swindle and her colleagues with the disabilities office; couldn’t do it without you.
And last but not least, thanks to God that I have a job I can do in a recliner, with a ten-foot commute and a dress code of pajamas. It’s hard work writing funny stories about deadly serious women’s issues, but I love it. I’m now working on
Out of Warranty
for 2012, a book that sends up the health insurance industry, the medical profession, and falling apart ten years before Medicare. As always, I hope it makes you laugh a lot, cry a little, and feel great in the end.
Out of Warranty
for 2012, a book that sends up the health insurance industry, the medical profession, and falling apart ten years before Medicare. As always, I hope it makes you laugh a lot, cry a little, and feel great in the end.
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