McKettricks of Texas: Garrett

Gordon might have flinched; his reaction was so well-controlled as to be nearly invisible. Still, there had been a reaction. “I regret that,” he said. “But I’ve taken care of Calvin, haven’t I? Kept up the child support payments? Let you raise him the way you wanted to?”

Julie’s throat thickened. She swallowed. Gordon wasn’t a monster, she reminded herself silently. Just a flesh-and-blood man, with plenty of good qualities and plenty of faults.

“I have classes to teach,” she said at last.

“Buy you lunch?”

The first-period bell rang.

Julie said nothing; she was torn.

“I could meet you somewhere, or pick up some food and bring it here,” Gordon offered.

Already hurrying away, Julie finally nodded her agreement. “The Silver Dollar Saloon makes a decent sandwich,” she called back. “It’s on Main Street. I’ll meet you there at eleven-thirty.”

Gordon smiled for the first time since the encounter had begun, nodded his head and returned to the SUV.

Julie normally threw herself into her English classes, losing all track of time, but that day she simply couldn’t concentrate. When lunchtime came, she grabbed her purse and fled to the parking lot, drove as fast as the speed limit allowed to the Silver Dollar.

Gordon’s SUV was parked in the gravel out front; she pulled the battered Caddie up beside his vehicle, shaking her head as she looked over at his ride. Although he’d made a good living as a fisherman, Gordon had never cared much about money, not when she knew him, anyway. Instead of working another job during the off-season and saving up to buy a bigger boat, or a starter house, or—say—an engagement ring, as some of his friends would have done, Gordon had partied through every nickel he earned. By the time he went back to sea, he was not only broke, but in debt to his father and several uncles besides.

The SUV looked fairly new.

His clothes, while nothing fancy, were good.

Obviously, Gordon had grown up—at least a little—since the last time Julie had seen him.

Now, reflecting on these things, she steeled herself as she walked up to the door of the Silver Dollar, started a little when it opened before she got hold of the handle.

Gordon stood just over the threshold, in the sawdust and peanut shells that covered the floor, acting for all the world like a gentleman.

Maybe he truly had changed. For Calvin’s sake, she hoped so.

She swept past him, waited for her eyes to adjust to the change of light.

The click of pool balls, the steady twang from the jukebox, the aroma of hot grease wafting from the grill—it was all familiar.

The Silver Dollar was doing a brisk business for a weekday, and folks nodded at Julie in greeting as she let Gordon steer her toward the back, where he’d scored one of the booths.

He waited until she was seated before sliding into the seat across from hers.

“You’re as beautiful as ever,” he said. “It’s good to see you again, Julie.”

The waitress appeared, handed Julie a menu. “The special is a grilled chicken sandwich, extra for cheese.”

“I’ll have that, please,” Julie said. “Without the cheese. Unsweetened iced tea, too, with lemon.”

Gordon asked for a double-deluxe cheeseburger with curly fries and a side of coleslaw, plus a cola.

“Fishing must be hungry business these days,” Julie commented, to get the conversation going.

“I’m not fishing anymore,” Gordon answered. “I’m in construction.”

“I see,” Julie said, though of course she didn’t, not really.

“How is Calvin?” Gordon asked.

“Except for his asthma, and he hasn’t had any problems with that for a while, he’s healthy and happy. He has a dog, a beagle named Harry, and he’s been learning to ride horseback out on the Silver Spur.”

“I can’t believe he’s in kindergarten,” Gordon said.

Their drinks came, and neither of them spoke until the waitress had gone.

“Believe it,” Julie said. “Calvin can already read and do simple math, and he would have skipped kindergarten and gone directly into first grade if I hadn’t refused to let him do that.”

Gordon watched her pensively, stirring his tall, icy cola with his straw. “I’m not here to make trouble, Julie,” he said.

“I didn’t say you were,” Julie pointed out.

He grinned. “No,” he agreed, “you didn’t. But you’re not happy to see me, are you?”

“No,” Julie admitted glumly.

Gordon chuckled at that. “Okay,” he said. “That’s fair. I appreciate the honesty.”

The food came, and Gordon took the time to salt and pepper his burger, line up the little wells of ketchup for dunking fries.

Julie cut her sandwich in half to make it more manageable and surprised herself by eating a few bites.

“I think I told you about Dixie,” Gordon began. “My wife?”

“You told me,” Julie said. “Are you still living in Louisiana?”

Gordon shook his head. “Dallas,” he said. “That’s Dixie’s hometown. Lots of construction going on, so I’ve been working steady.”

“That’s good,” Julie said carefully.

She had lived with this man.

Made love with him, borne his child.

Even back then, in the throes of passion, she’d known so little about Gordon Pruett. Never met his parents and very few of his friends. She wondered, then and now, if he’d been trying to keep her a secret for some reason.

“Dixie’s dad owns the construction company,” Gordon explained, with no trace of apology or defensiveness. “We have a nice home in a good neighborhood and—”

“You can’t have Calvin,” Julie broke in, frightened again. Still. “I’m all he knows, and I won’t just send him off to live with total strangers, Gordon.”

Gordon raised both hands in a bid for peace. “Julie,” he said, leaning toward her a little, his voice slow and earnest, “let’s be clear from the beginning. I have no intention—zero—of going after full custody, or even shared custody. I’ll continue to make the child-support payments. But I want to get to know Calvin, and have him get to know me.”