The Bad Son

“You’ve earned this big fancy job, but I’ll miss you. We’ll all miss you. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“But…”

“No buts, Liz. Stop while you’re ahead. I’ll let you know as soon as I decide.” With that, he walked out.

IN HIS CAR HE TOOK a couple of deep breaths. He wasn’t expecting this kind of opposition and it was starting to get to him. His whole life was here and he had a good job, good family and friends. Why was he running away? Why did he feel that leaving would change his feelings for Macy?

Before he could answer the questions, his cell buzzed. He saw the number. Jake. His mom had found reinforcements.

“Hey, Beau, what’s going on? I just left Mom’s and she’s pretty upset. She said you’re thinking about moving to Dallas.”

His hand tightened on the cell. “It’s a very good job offer. I haven’t decided yet.”

“This is awful sudden, isn’t it?”

“I was hoping for some support, big brother.”

There was a moment of silence. “Hell, Beau. I’m sorry. I was thinking about myself and my kids and the family. We all depend on you. You keep us all together and never fail to remind us about the brothers’ meeting every month. We never worry about the date because we know you’ll call us. But if this is something you really want to do, then I’m there for you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Beau?”

“Hmm?”

“You sound strange. Are you okay?”

No. He wasn’t okay. He felt like a traitor—deserting his family and friends.

“I’m fine. This is just a difficult decision.”

“Don’t worry about Mom. I’ll talk to her.”

“Thanks, Jake. How’s Ben?” Beau wanted to change the subject.

“He’s fine. We talked to his teacher and the coach and we’ve agreed to let him play in Little League. It’s past the sign-up day, but we got everything okayed. We were worried because he doesn’t have great coordination, but the coach thought it would be good for him. Ben is so excited that he’s going to get a uniform and play with some of his friends. I told Ben you and I would practice with him, but since you might not be here Elise will have to help. Can you imagine that?”

Beau closed his eyes briefly. This was his family and he’d never let them down. He made sure he was always there for them. A paralyzing pain shot through his heart. What was he doing? Why was he feeling so guilty about the choice in front of him?

“She might be better than you think.”

“Yeah. Now wouldn’t that be something. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Beau stared at the phone for a few minutes then headed for the hospital. Now that his mother was aware of his plans, it was only a matter of time before Macy found out. He had to tell her before that happened.

For his mother to enlist Jake’s help, she had to be really upset. That reaction still floored him. All his life she’d encouraged and supported everything he’d done. But he’d been within easy access, not far from her. This was different. Dallas was two hours away.

She’d said that she depended on him. And she had. It had been just him and her in that one-room apartment after she’d left Joe. She’d tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he’d cry at night because he missed Jake. She cried, too. Then somehow their positions shifted and he was the one telling her everything was going to be okay.

Althea depended on him to keep them together, as did Jake. Even though they were busy with their own lives, he made sure they all stayed in contact. Suddenly he knew what his mother was so afraid of. With him in Dallas, she was afraid the family would fall apart again, as the Randall family had.

He could call her, but he couldn’t tell her with certainty that he wasn’t leaving. That was still a very real possibility. He’d go over in the morning and have a long talk with her, reassure her that the family was strong and stable and nothing was ever going to break them apart again. Of that he was certain.

WHEN HE REACHED the maternity ward, he saw Macy coming out of the nursery. Her hair was pulled back and held with a clip. Loose strands curled around her face. With no makeup, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheekbones was visible. And she looked beautiful. His heart knocked like a faulty engine. She pulled off her scrubs and stared at a baby in an incubator.

“Is that her?” he asked quietly, walking to her side.

Macy glanced at him. “Yes, that’s Zoë, Delia’s daughter. To maintain a normal body temperature, Dr. Pender decided to keep her in the incubator for a few days.”

Beau stared at the tiny infant with wisps of strawberry-blond hair. She wore only a diaper, and round stickers attached cardiac and respiratory monitor cords to her small chest. His gut tightened at the sight.

“Is she okay?”

“Yes.”

“What’s that contraption she’s wearing?” A clear plastic bubble surrounded her head.

“She’s getting some extra oxygen through an oxyhood. Dr. Pender says she’s four weeks early and all she needs is time to grow and to become stronger.”

He watched the concern on her face. “Do you agree with that diagnosis?”

“I’m not sure. It makes sense, but I’ll feel better when we have the results of the tests.” She placed her hand on the glass, her eyes on Zoë. “Isn’t she adorable? And she has big blue eyes.”

Beau knew that tone. He’d heard it a million times as she cooed over some dog or cat who was battered and bruised. She was that type of person, and she was already so in love with her niece that any words of caution would be pointless.

“She’s so tiny,” he remarked.

“She’s five pounds and two ounces. Delia doesn’t want to nurse her. I just fed her and she feels like nothing in my arms. So precious.”

At that moment, Zoë’s body jerked and became stiff. Macy immediately tensed. The nurse on duty was standing over her and put her hand through the hole on the side of the incubator to Zoë’s chest. She gave the thumbs-up sign to Macy, signaling everything was okay.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Babies sometimes do that in their sleep. She’s fine.” Macy didn’t seem worried so he wasn’t, either.

“When can Delia take her home?”

“The doctor hasn’t said and we have to wait for the test results. But Delia can go home in the morning.”

“Is she fine with leaving the baby?”

“Yes, but she’s nervous and anxious. I’m trying to get her back on her meds.”

“Good luck with that. It never worked before.”