Second Chance Dad

Scooping up a couple of books, she turned as a small red motorized bicycle putted up to the curb—with her son riding behind that girl.

“Ashton!” Her heart leaped into her throat as she dropped the books and raced out of the shop. “What are you doing on that thing?”

He slid off from behind Mackenzie and removed the red helmet, grinning as if he’d just descended from an amusement-park roller coaster. “You don’t have to pick me up anymore, Mom. I got a ride.”

No way! “You are not ever to get on that thing again. You could be killed.”

Mackenzie threw her leg over and stood beside Ashton, removing her own helmet. What was left of her ponytail hung in tangles. “We had on helmets.”

“He did not have permission to get on a motorized bicycle. That thing is small and hard to see and dangerous.”

“I know how to ride it and watch for cars and stop at lights and stuff,” Mackenzie said. “I’m a good driver. I took a class and got all the questions right.”

“Why are you two even out of school?” Hanna checked her watch. Oh my God. She’d been so busy stocking the shelves for next week’s opening she’d forgotten to pick up her son. “Both of you hear this very clearly. I won’t have Ashton riding on that thing. End of subject.”

Ashton stood on the sidewalk shuffling his new white sneakers. “But, Mom.”

“No but Moms. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Hanna stepped aside so Dave Barkley, carrying two plastic bags, could pass on the narrow sidewalk. Mrs. Barkley had probably given him a list of groceries to bring home from their corner grocery store. All the men in town gathered each afternoon in the old wooden chairs out front of Dave’s store to shoot the breeze. Hanna returned his nod and waited until he climbed into his truck. “Mackenzie, I don’t know how things work at your house, but we have rules in this family. The first rule is to ask permission before doing new things. The next time you would like Ashton to do something, he has to check with me first or he won’t be allowed to run around with you. If your parents let you risk your life, that’s their business, but Ashton’s safety is my responsibility. Do I need to spell this out?”

The girl set her jaw, took the extra helmet from Ashton and strapped it on the bike’s back bar. “Why don’t you just lock him in his room until he’s, like, eighteen? It’d be about as much fun as you let him have. At least nobody’d pick on him, huh?” She jammed her helmet on her head, straddled the motorized monstrosity and sped away from the curb.

Ashton squared his shoulders and glared. “Now you’ve chased off the only friend I have. You treat me like a baby. You dress me like a wuss. You don’t want me to have any fun, ever! And now tomorrow, when Bully Baer picks on me, Kenzie probably won’t even be on my side. Why do you hate me?” He slung his backpack over his shoulder and stomped past his grandmother and into the store.

“Ashton, come back here!”

Norma Creed stood in the doorway of the shop worrying the lace collar on her prim pink blouse and staring after Mackenzie. “You’re wise to restrict Ashton’s association with that wild child. You have to keep him safe.”

“Mom, I fully realize that.” She followed her mother back into the shop. “Where did Ashton go?”

Norma looked around the vacant bookstore. “You don’t think he took off out the back after her, do you?”

Wonderful! Hanna walked through the narrow store, looking each way until she reached the back door into the alley where Ashton was kicking up a cloud of dirt and gravel. “What are you doing?”

“I hate stupid glowing white shoes.” He jabbed his new sneakers in the dirt. “Why couldn’t you buy me blue or gray? I hate it here. I don’t have any friends and it’s all your fault. It’s worse than Dallas,” he accused, spinning around and stirring up dust like a Texas dirt devil.

His unhappiness jabbed through her heart like a rusty knife. “Honey, I want you to have friends, but I have to make sure you don’t get hurt and that bike is dangerous.”

“I don’t care. It’d be better to get hurt than to get made fun of,” he said, looking away.

“Slow down before you start wheezing.” She reached out and touched his shoulder, but he spun farther away. Sandy stains ran down his cheeks where the dust had turned his tears to mud. “Ashton, I love you. I just…”

He turned and raced down the alley. “I’m going home.”

Norma stood silently in the door, wearing her motherly wisdom like a halo, and once again, Hanna felt like the child who had performed below expectations. “Mom, can you lock up?”

Her mother touched Hanna’s shoulder. “Why don’t you lock up and let me go after him? He’ll calm down walking the few blocks. Take time to calm yourself before confronting him again.”

Hanna resented her mother stepping in and playing the good cop when Ashton was angry at Hanna, but it probably wasn’t a bad idea. “Okay, but I won’t be long.”

Collecting her purse from the office, Norma marched across the street to her blue Chevy, which was nestled against the curb between two tall pickups. The only time there was any real traffic was on spring weekends, when tourists descended on Hill Country to see the wildflowers.

Turning out lights and locking the back door, Hanna stopped short at the sight of Vince Keegan standing inside the shop. “Do you need something?”

For once, he didn’t smile. “It’s time you and I had a little chat.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’m not up for any more confrontations today.”

“Lady, when someone upsets my kid enough that she calls me crying, I want to know why. And when you start telling people, especially my daughter, that I’m a bad parent, then Mackenzie’s the least of your problems.”

“Your daughter is out of control.” The more congenial approach would have been to offer him a cup of coffee and calmly explain that his darling daughter was a bad influence on her son, but Hanna’s temper won out over her manners.

His legs were slightly spread and his eyes narrowed. “Out of control? She’s the most in-control kid in town.”

“From what I can see, Mr. Keegan, she does whatever she wants and has no respect for authority.”

“Really?” He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets.

“Need I remind you that your little hellion got Ashton into a fistfight and placed in ISS? She inserted herself in the middle of buying him clothes, completely overriding my wishes. And now she brings him home on the back of some kind of dangerous motorbike without even asking permission. This is only day two! I’m biting my nails in anticipation of what she’ll do the rest of the week.”

“My little hellion kept your little prep from getting his ass kicked on the playground yesterday. And best I can figure, that was her goal again with the clothes advice.” Vince leaned forward and maintained eye contact, grinding his teeth. “Today she gave him a lift home because he was afraid Billy would show up before you got there to pick him up. What exactly do you take issue with?”

“Why would any sane parent buy a sixth-grader a motorcycle?”

“It’s an electric bicycle, and I bought it for her twelfth birthday so she could get where she needed to be while I was working. Unlike you, I realize I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Just please ask Mackenzie to stay away from Ashton. I can’t do anything about your poor judgment, but I won’t put my son at risk.”

His jaw ticked. “She and I took a class before she was allowed to ride it, and she only rides the side streets where any regular bicycle would go.” He glanced around the store and let out a long sigh. “Why in hell am I defending myself? Since you don’t seem to mind condemning my parenting style, how about we discuss yours?”

“Excuse me?” She stared at his wide shoulders. Why was it that good-looking and cocky were directly proportionate in men?

“Maybe you should reexamine your theory that keeping Ashton under your wing is the best way to protect him.” His voice remained soft and mellow, but his words bit. “Maybe consider what’s going to happen when something goes wrong and you aren’t Johnny-on-the-spot to stand between him and danger. Might consider teaching him to take care of himself and make his own decisions.”

Not hard to see where Mackenzie inherited her disrespect for authority. “So I should let him wear ratty clothes and race around town like a delinquent in training, fighting with other children?”

Vince’s denim-colored eyes narrowed, but he still didn’t raise his voice. “The most important thing to teach kids is judgment and how to make intelligent decisions. If you lock them in a protective bubble, when they do escape they have no idea how to function or protect themselves in the real world.”

“Do not insult my son’s ability to think for himself.”

“He’s giving it his best shot, but you’re dictating how you want him to dress and act. Kids should fit in with their peers, feel like they belong. You’re making Ashton a laughingstock trying to dress him like a miniature yuppie instead of a regular kid.”

Blood pumped through her veins and she took a step toward him. What did this irresponsible father know about how to dress? He was wearing old jeans and a navy T-shirt, blue plaid flannel flapping in the breeze and a Keegan’s Docks cap topping off his faded outfit. Clothes that fitted his self-assurance and tight body like a glove. “You justify letting Mackenzie run wild as teaching her to make wise decisions? Might I ask what her mother thinks of this approach?”

His features stiffened. “Mackenzie doesn’t have a mother.”