A Texas-Made Family

On Monday afternoon of the fourth week, however, she got home late because of more car trouble. She rushed into the house, out of sorts from having to wait for the bus after an unsettling call from Lisa’s school counselor. Giving Jordan’s foot a shake as she passed him on the couch, Rebecca said, “The Nissan’s kaput. When I left the salon, it refused to start and I had to have it towed to a repair shop. I’m running really behind. Jordan, are you listening? Get Lisa. I need a private word with her, and then the two of you throw together BLT sandwiches for supper. There’s lettuce and tomato in the fridge. Fix bacon in the microwave. That’s all we have time for tonight, I’m afraid.”

“Lisa’s not home yet. She stayed for the baseball game. Ryan’s the opening pitcher. He said he’d drive her home after the game.”

Rebecca skidded to a halt on the way to her bedroom. “Run that by me again.”

Unfolding his long body from the too-short couch, Jordan peered at his watch. “Lisa thought she’d beat you home. Usually she does. Today’s game must’ve gone into extra innings.”

“Are you saying this isn’t the first time your sister’s stayed after school for a baseball game?”

“Yeah. She watches the home varsity games. She’d like to sign up for the rooter bus, but she thinks you’d have a fit.”

“That explains why her counselor called me at work. She’s concerned about a sudden slip in Lisa’s grades. Listen, Jordan, I need to take a quick shower. Then you and I will walk over to the school. I haven’t got a clue where the ball diamond is. You can show me.”

“Aw, Mom. What’s the big deal? Lisa’s a brainiac. What’s the harm if she goofs off a bit?” Jordan’s question was drowned out by the slam of his mother’s bedroom door.

Following a very short shower indeed, Rebecca rushed back to the living room. Her coral-colored hair was darker than normal because she’d skipped drying it. She ignored the water spots on the light blue blouse she was tucking into a navy twill skirt.

Jordan launched a second argument against walking to the high school. “It’s a dumb idea, Mom,” he said, “Ryan could take a different route home and miss us alto—” He broke off when a key rattled in the lock and the door opened. Jordan raised a warning eyebrow at his sister, who was completely absorbed in something her companion was saying.

The boy trailing Lisa into the house towered over her by more than a head. He wore a dirt-streaked ball uniform and his nut-brown hair had a windblown, precision cut. No run-of-the-mill barbershop cut, Rebecca noted. But it was the kid’s possessive hand on her daughter’s waist that sent Rebecca’s mind reeling.

“Oh, hi, Mom,” Lisa said belatedly. “I didn’t see your car. I…uh, didn’t think you were home.” Grabbing her new friend’s hand, Lisa dragged him fully into the room. “Ryan’s game ran late. He won it with his brilliant pitching.” Lisa sent him a dazzling smile. “The coach let Ryan pitch the whole game. And he struck out the last three batters. Ryan, this is my mother, Rebecca Geroux. Mom, Ryan Lane, Central High’s pitching star.” Lisa didn’t bother to hide how enamored she was of the boy, who appeared to accept her admiration as his due.

Lisa babbled on, unaware of her mother’s growing tension. “I happened to mention to Ryan that our garbage disposal quit and is starting to smell really gross, Mom. He said he installed one in their house in Germany. He’s offered to look at ours to see if it’s worth fixing, or if we need to replace it. Either way, his labor’s free.”

Ryan held out his hand to Rebecca. “Happy to finally meet you, Mrs. Geroux. Lisa’s told me a lot of nice things about you.” His smile and the way he knew all the right things to say felt calculated to Rebecca. He seemed far too carefree to suit her.

Oh, yes, the counselor’s phone call suddenly made perfect sense. Lisa looked at the kid as if he made the sun rise and set. Ryan Lane was to blame for Lisa’s inattention to her schoolwork.

Rebecca had once married a boy with an engaging smile and a sense of entitlement. She had no intention of allowing Lisa to fall into the same trap.

Closing her eyes briefly, Rebecca dug deep to ground herself in the present. She didn’t want to remember the day she’d been forced to flee from Jack Geroux and find safety for herself and Lisa in a shelter. She’d learned the hard way that smiles and empty promises spelled disaster for a girl with no money of her own and far too little education.

When Rebecca opened her eyes again, all she could see was Ryan Lane’s arrogance. She couldn’t bring herself to shake his hand. For Lisa’s sake, Rebecca wanted this boy—Ryan—to disappear.

“Mom?” Lisa gripped Ryan’s left arm, but she’d begun to gnaw her lip in consternation at her mother’s silence.

Rallying at last, Rebecca found her voice and steeled herself. She abruptly stepped between them, effectively separating Lisa from the cocky interloper. “Excuse me, you’ll have to go. I need to leave for work, and with you bringing Lisa home so late our evening routine has been disrupted. While we’re on the subject of my daughter, let me be perfectly clear. She can’t afford to be distracted from her studies by hanging out at baseball games. As for our disposal, thanks for the offer, but I’ve called a plumber.”

She hadn’t, of course, and both her kids knew it.

Even though Ryan Lane was taller and broader than Rebecca’s five foot four and one hundred and twenty pounds, she edged him out the door. Her final glimpse of him showed the smile had been wiped off his face as he gaped at her from the bottom step.

Rebecca shut the door before she had to give any explanation for her rudeness.

Lisa promptly burst into tears. “Mother! How could you embarrass me like that? I’m not a child. I’m almost seventeen. I hate you! I’m never going to speak to you again. I wish I knew where Daddy was so I could go live with him. He wouldn’t be so mean to me.” Flinging her backpack to the floor, she ran down the hall to her bedroom.

Rebecca slowly released her hold on the doorknob. She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. Why in the world would Lisa say such a thing about her father? They never mentioned him. He had no place in any of their lives.

Avoiding her son’s look of dismay, Rebecca picked up Lisa’s pack and set it on the couch.

Jordan flopped down beside the well-used pack. “Boy, remind me never to bring a girlfriend home.”

“Ryan is not Lisa’s boyfriend.”

“Huh! That’s what her friends at school call him. The other girls are jealous. Anyway…what’s wrong with her having a boyfriend? It’s no big deal, Mom. You act like dating is a capital offense.”

“Dating? Have they been seeing each other at more than those silly baseball games?” Rebecca crossed to the window and tugged aside the drape. A pristine blue Mustang convertible was parked at the curb. Ryan Lane stood beside it with his car keys in his hand, facing the house, chin defiantly elevated. He scowled one final time, before slowly stepping off the curb to climb into his fancy car. With a roar, he drove away.

What a contrast to her own battered compact, which now languished in a repair shop until she could find the money to bail it out. And didn’t the age and condition of the cars alone underscore the vast difference between that boy’s family and Lisa’s?

Rebecca let the drape slide through her fingers. She paused as she remembered what else Lisa had said about Ryan’s family—that he didn’t have a mother. It was possible that his father—another single parent—might not be any happier than she was about his son pursuing a girl.

Moreover if the family was as well off as that convertible implied, Rebecca doubted very much that Mr. Lane would be thrilled with her own situation. “Jordan, do you happen to know Ryan’s father’s first name?” If she had that, Rebecca could phone the man and maybe enlist his help in nipping the fledgling relationship in the bud.

“Nope. Maybe Lisa knows. So, Mom, are we still gonna eat before you head out, or what?” Jordan asked, eyeing his mother uneasily. “Aren’t you late already?” The fourteen-year-old picked at a frayed sofa cushion before slapping both knees and standing up.

“Guess there’s nothing stopping me from making BLTs,” he said.

“I can’t leave like this. I’ll phone Darcy and see if she’ll cover my shift.” All at once, Rebecca felt guilty for the way she’d handled things. She should’ve thought about contacting the boy’s father instead of losing her temper. She could have politely sent Ryan away and then sat down with Lisa to discuss her school counselor’s call. They still needed to do that. When Lisa was calmer, she’d see what hanging out with Ryan was doing to everything she’d accomplished so far. And if she didn’t—then Rebecca could involve Ryan’s father.

“Fix yourself a sandwich if you want, Jordan. I’m not hungry. I doubt Lisa will be, either.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Jordan, none of this is your fault.”

“Lisa’s in deep shit, huh? Are you gonna ground her forever?”

“Jordan, watch your language, please. I…uh…will handle Lisa.”

“You better not try now, Mom. She’s too upset to hear anything,” Jordan said sagely. “You might wanna wait awhile, so why don’t you just go to work?”

“Maybe you’re right.” Truthfully, giving up a shift would cost money Rebecca desperately needed to pay for the repairs to the Nissan and the smelly garbage disposal that no amount of disinfectant seemed to help. The kids had no idea how tight their finances were each month. Any unexpected expense meant cutting back someplace else. Subtract a night’s wages and tips and, well, she had no way to cut the budget that much.

“I really should go in to work tonight,” she said to her son, still waffling.

“Yeah, the restaurant’s always busy. Mrs. Blackburn might have trouble handling your tables and hers.”

“I’d better phone Darcy anyway, and let her know I’ll be late. I’ll offer to close for her tonight if she’ll cover my tables until I can get downtown.” Rebecca’s co-worker, Darcy Blackburn, was also a single mom with four young boys. She, too, had trouble making ends meet and would understand kid trouble without asking a bunch of questions Rebecca wasn’t prepared to answer.

After talking to Darcy, Rebecca knocked softly on Lisa’s door. The crying didn’t lessen, so she tried the knob. She wasn’t surprised to find the door locked. “Lisa, open up. We need to talk before I go to work.”

“No. Just because you hate men doesn’t mean I have to. You ruined my life. Go away.”

Rebecca took a breath to respond, then let it out on a sigh. Jordan was right. Lisa wouldn’t listen when she was in this frame of mind. How could she make her daughter, who’d never experienced real hardship, see that a woman needed a good education in case she had to support herself?

Yes, Rebecca’s marriage had fallen apart, but she didn’t hate men. She just didn’t have time for a relationship. She’d assumed that her kids would look at her as an example and avoid repeating her mistakes.