“Stop trying to make me do new things!”
She understood now, or at least she thought she did. “You’re going to be doing new things for the rest of your life, baby boy. There’s no way of getting around it.”
“I don’t care. I want to stay me.”
“And who is that?”
“Devon Watkins, the anointed preacher,” he threw back in a sullen tone. “God’s going to punish you for not letting me preach the Word.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You and everybody else are going to burn in the pit.”
“Zoey, too?”
He shot her a dark look, but he didn’t reply.
“There’s a lady pastor coming to live here, and I think you’re going to like her.”
The look on his face said otherwise, but Lily chose to ignore it. “She’s also a counselor and has spent many years helping kids with their problems. I’m going to have you talk with her when she gets here. Maybe she can help you sort out some of these feelings you’re having.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
He shot her another look.
She shrugged and said, “It doesn’t, and if you want to add me to your list of why you’re mad, fine. My job is to love you and help you, and I take my job seriously.”
He refolded his arms in a huff. “Then why won’t you let me do what I want? My grandma let me do whatever I wanted.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“She did,” he countered, raising his voice. “And I don’t like you anymore.”
“I’m not liking you a whole lot either, so add that to your list. Now I’m going to get you your medicine, and you can take your little mad self back up to your room.”
She gave him the pill. He washed it down with the last of his orange juice and stomped up the steps loud enough to be heard in Georgia.
Lily got up. “Devon!”
“What?” he demanded from the landing.
“Get back down here.”
At first she thought he was going to give her more lip, but as she glared up at him from the bottom of the stairs, he must have seen the cool fire in her eyes, because he complied. He wasn’t happy, but she didn’t care. Her mother would have smacked her into next week for making such an exit. “Now,” she said in a voice reminiscent of mamas everywhere, “you don’t get to storm around here like some kid on TV. Walk back up those steps like you have some sense.”
He had the decency to look ashamed and muttered, “Yes, ma’am.”
This time he climbed the stairs with a lot less attitude.
“And don’t even think about slamming your door,” she warned, went back into the kitchen, and sat down. Lily put her head down on the table. Reverend Grant couldn’t get to Henry Adams fast enough. Devon needed help, and so did she.
Across the street, Trent and Amari were discussing the move to Lily’s, too.
“What do you think of the plan?” Trent asked him. “And you can be truthful, son.”
Amari looked at his dad, seated across from him at their kitchen table. “Do I still get my own room?”
“Absolutely.”
“And I can put my NASCAR posters back up on the walls?”
Trent nodded. “We’ll build the gym over there, too.”
Amari’s face brightened. “She’s okay with that?”
“Yep.” Trent was certain Lily wasn’t, but he’d made the biggest capitulation, so what could she say?
“One last question,” Amari said. “No, two.”
“Shoot.”
“I’ve seen the inside of her refrigerator. Are we going to have to eat all that yogurt and stuff she buys? I’m used to meat.”
Trent chuckled. “We’ll still eat meat, don’t worry. I’m not fond of the yogurt and stuff, either. What’s your second question?”
“Do you think it’ll be okay if I call her Mom? Never had a mom before.”
Trent went still. He met his son’s serious gaze and felt his own heart fill with emotion. He’d never had a mom either, and knew how that lack had saddened him while growing up. “I think she’ll like that, Amari.”
“Good. When do we pack?”
Amari’s beaming face let Trent know that everything would be okay. He just hoped Devon was smiling, too.
He wasn’t. Devon was up in his bedroom smoldering because every time he turned around, somebody was making him do something he didn’t want to do. When Ms. Lily demanded that he come back down the steps, he’d started to refuse, but the look in her eyes said she wasn’t playing, so he’d obeyed. His grandma had given him that look a few times, and it usually came with a whipping on the end, so he knew better than to keep acting up. However, he was still so mad he wanted to beat up something the way Zoey had done him. Since he didn’t know how, he snatched a pencil out of his X-Men pencil holder and tried to break it in half. He wasn’t strong enough, and that further inflamed his anger so he threw it across the room. Every pencil in the cylinder went flying after that. The crayons came next, followed by all the pieces of chalk. With furious tears streaming down his cheeks, he threw his bed pillows and kicked his Spider-Man slippers lying so innocently next to the bed. He snatched open his dresser drawers and grabbed handfuls of the nicely folded items inside and gave them the same treatment. All he wanted was his grandma and his other life back, but because that could never be, he threw himself onto his bed and cried until the medicine eased him back into sleep.
Trent was still basking in Amari’s approval of the move when his phone rang. It was Barrett Payne, and he wanted to call an emergency meeting of the Dads. He wouldn’t tell Trent why over the phone, but Trent agreed to make the calls to alert the others. They set the meet for noon at his garage, and after Trent hung up, he wondered, Now what?
The what turned out to be Preston’s search for his biological parents.
“I don’t like it,” Barrett declared once they were all seated around Trent’s garage.
“Why not?” Trent could see the other men watching Barrett closely.
“Because.”
Reg sighed aloud. “Because why?”
“It’s just going to blow up in his face, and I told him that.”
Jack saluted him with the bottle of water he was sipping from. “That’s real supportive, Dad.”
Barrett glared.
Reg shook his head. “I’m with Jack. What were you thinking?”
Apparently offended, Barrett stood and declared, “If you’re just going to criticize, I may as well leave.”
Mal waved him off. “Oh, sit down. You’re not going anywhere.”
Barrett sat.
Trent hid his smile behind the draw he took from his can of soda.
Reg asked, “If you were adopted, wouldn’t you want to know where you came from?”
“Not if I had a good adoptive family.”
Jack shook his head as if he couldn’t believe Barrett’s stance.
“So in other words, you’re taking Preston’s quest personal?” Mal asked.
“No, of course not.”
“Sounds like it to me,” Jack countered.
“Me, too,” Mal agreed sagely. “Let the kid do his thing. Whoever his folks turn out to be, I don’t see Preston wanting to leave.”
“Legally he can’t anyway,” Trent pointed out. “The biological parents have given up their rights.”
“Then why even look?” Barrett countered. “Sheila and I provide him with everything he needs.”
It was Trent’s turn to shake his head. “Barrett, I hate to pile on, but sounds like you’re taking this personal to me, too.”
Barrett sat back against the old leather couch and firmly folded his arms across his chest. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Try seeing things from Preston’s perspective,” Jack suggested. “He’s a brilliant kid. Of course he’s going to want to know about his biological past. Not everything’s about you, Barrett.”
T
hat earned Jack a glare, which he shrugged off.
“How’s your wife handling all this?” Mal said, bringing the conversation back.
“She’s all for it, of course.”
Reg raised his bottle. “To Sheila.”
The look on Barrett’s face said he didn’t agree with the tribute, but no one in the garage called him on it.
Trent asked instead, “Would you rather Preston not know who he is?”
Barrett didn’t respond.
Mal gave him a disgusted look. “Grow up, man. Like Jack said, this isn’t about you. It’s about your son. Whatever insecurities you have, deal with them.”
“I’m not insecure. I’m a marine.”
Jack said, “Which is probably the problem.”
Barrett looked him up and down. “What do you know about the Corps, schoolteacher?” The sneer was plain.
“Oh, that’s real mature,” Jack tossed back. “But to answer your question. I don’t know a damn thing about being a marine, but you don’t know a damn thing about being a parent, so that makes us even.”
Barrett got up and walked out.
Trent said, “Looks like the meeting’s adjourned.”
“Hallelujah,” Mal declared sarcastically. “In the meantime, I vote we give Preston as much support as we can. Mr. Hard-Ass will get it together, but if we wait for him to come around, Preston’ll be thirty-five.”
They all agreed.
“One last thing before we break up,” Trent said. “We’re getting a new member. Name’s Gary Clark.” He went on to tell them a bit about Gary’s situation, and about restoring the Clark homestead.
Jack said, “Hammers aren’t my strong suit, but I’m in.”
Reg was, too. “I’m not good at the hardware stuff either, but when somebody falls off the roof, I’m your man.”
“Okay,” Trent said. “Meet me out there tomorrow around one. Jack and Reg, I’ll give you directions.” He turned to Mal. “Dad, if you could talk to Clay and your crew and see if they’d be willing to pitch in, we should have enough manpower to put up new walls and a roof before the snow falls. We can finish the interior over the winter.”
“Sounds good,” Mal replied.
With that, the meeting adjourned.
Jack and Reg departed to enjoy the rest of the sunny afternoon, but Trent and his dad lingered in the garage.
“Amari and I’ll be moving into Lily’s place after the wedding,” Trent informed Mal.
“Amari okay with that?”
”Yeah, just as long as he can put his posters up and not have to eat Lily’s yogurt.”
Mal chuckled.
“He also asked if he could call Lily Mom.”
Mal nodded appreciatively. “Beneath all that street is a great young man. I’ll bet Lily’ll be honored.”
“I think so, too. Oh, and listen to this. Devon and Zoey had a falling-out last night, and Devon came home looking like he’d gone ten rounds with Ali.”
Mal looked up from his soda. “What?”
“Black eye. Busted lip.”
“Zoey did that?”
Trent nodded.
Mal chuckled. “That girl’s got a whole lot of layers under that little button nose.”
Trent agreed. “We probably don’t know the half of it.”
“So what started it?”
Trent told him.
Mal sipped. “Lot of layers to the preacher man, too. He’s been hiding it well, though.”
Trent then related the tale of Devon’s afternoon at the garage and his refusal to try new things.
“Zoey liked working on the cars?” Mal smiled. “Why am I not surprised.”
“Devon just didn’t want to get his suit dirty.”
“Gotta toughen that boy up.”
“I think so, too, but what do two country boys from Kansas like us know about child psychology?”
Mal shrugged. “True.”
Trent scanned the tarp covering the old T-Bird. He really wanted to work on the car, but spending time with Lily held more power. “I’m heading over to Lily’s. Where are you off to?”
“Back to the Dog to get ready for the Saturday-night rush.”
“See you later.”
They walked to their trucks and parted with a wave.
Chapter 9
On the drive back home, Trent mused on all the goings-on. Barrett. Preston. Zoey. Devon. The wedding. Gary. Gary’s house. He had no idea when he’d become such a master multitasker, but figured it came from hanging around Bernadine and Fontaine. Lily’s face floated across his mind. Lord, she was gorgeous. Focusing on her made all the rest of the stuff he was juggling fade away. Their upcoming marriage would be his third try at the brass ring. Although he’d considered himself in love when he tied the knot before, what he felt inside for her seemed to soar above and beyond. He knew her by heart, if he could call it that, just as she did him. And them being apart for so many years hadn’t seemed to matter. At first, he’d been angered by her return to Henry Adams two summers ago, but once he got over himself and accepted her apology for hurting him so badly, they’d picked up seemingly right where they’d left off. Gary had been right to tease them about acting like teens again; they did have a tendency to get into it, but he and Lily had grown up. They’d been molded by their separated lives, and their present relationship was the better for it. Unlike Devon, Trent was more than happy to embrace the new, because the new had brought his Lily Flower back into his arms.
When he pulled into the garage, he checked his phone before going inside. A text message from Amari was waiting to inform him that he and Preston had ridden their bikes out to see Tamar and would be back in plenty of time for dinner. Trent smiled. In the face of all the other things swirling around town, none of it involved Amari for once, and he was happy about that as well.
Trent called Lily to make sure she was home, and as he came out of the house, he noticed Sheila on her knees in her front yard, planting bulbs. He wondered if Barrett was still pouting, but seeing Sheila reminded him that there was something he wanted to speak with her about.
She met his approach with a sunny smile. “Hey, Trent. Gorgeous day isn’t it?”
“Sure is. What are you planting?”
“Apparently, deer food—the more tulips I plant, the more they eat. Last spring they ate everything.”
“Tamar plants daffodils. Deer don’t eat those.”
She appeared surprised. “Really?”
“Yep. Call her. No sense in feeding the deer unless you want to fatten them up for hunting season.”
She made an ugly face and cringed. “I despise venison.”
He grinned. “Just wanted to come over and say thanks for taking on the wedding.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoy the planning. Since Lily has appointed me VP of social affairs, my first official event will be a dinner for the new priest when she arrives. As the mayor, your attendance is mandatory.”
He replied with a skeptical-sounding “Okay. VP of social affairs. Congratulations.”
“And I get an office, a budget, and a salary. Barrett’s either going to be happy about my new job, or—” She paused and whispered, “I almost said ‘shit bricks,’ but that’s not very ladylike, is it?”
Trent’s stunned laughter broke the silence. “Who are you?” he asked. “And what have you done with Sheila Payne?”
“Mousy little woman? Weepy all the time?”
Trent stilled.
“Haven’t seen her.” She paused again as if thinking, then said, “This is all Lily’s fault, you know. She told me that I had to have been a strong woman to convince Mr. Hard-Ass to move here and become a parent, but I’d never thought about it in those terms before.”
“I’d have to agree with her.”
“After I came home and thought about it, I had to agree with her, too. My talk with her this morning is one of the reasons I’m out here. Gardening helps me think things through. And do you know what I’ve decided?”
&nb
sp; He was almost afraid to respond. “What?”
“I’m going to become that same strong woman. No more Sheila Payne doormat to the marines. I’m going to try and model myself after Lily and Bernadine and Tamar.”
Uh-oh, said his inner self, but aloud he replied, “That sounds good, Sheila.” He feigned a hasty glance down at his watch. “Oops. Gotta go. Lily’s waiting. I just wanted to say thanks for the wedding and everything. Take care, and good luck with the new you.”
“Thanks, Trent.”
Still a bit stunned, he crossed the street to Lily’s house.
He found her in the kitchen making the sloppy joes they’d be having for dinner. “You’ve created a monster, you know that, right?”
Wearing an apron over her T-shirt and jeans, she looked up, puzzled. “Monster? What are you talking about?” The smell of the onions and beef she was sautéing in a big shiny pot filled the house.
He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “Sheila Payne. I think Barrett may be driving her to drink. God, that smells good.”
Spoon in hand, she turned his way and asked, “What?”
Laughing at the confusion on her face, he took a seat and related his conversation with Sheila.
When he finished, Lily went back to her cooking. “Could be worse. She could want to model herself after Eustasia Pennymaker and be in the market for a sow.”
“True, but why does this give me a bad feeling?”
“Because you’re a man, and it looks like another strong woman will be moving in. It’ll be okay. The colonel’s not going to be happy, though. How’d the Dads meeting go?”
“How’d you know we were meeting?”
“Is Dads Inc. a secret organization now?” she asked. “You know there aren’t any secrets around here.”
Resigned to that truth, he related the reason for the meeting and concluded by declaring, “Barrett’s an idiot.”
She sighed. “He and Preston seemed to be doing so well. Maybe it’ll all work out. Me, I have problems of my own.” She poured a can of pork and beans into the now done meat and onions and stirred as she told him about Devon’s behavior.
His eyes widened.
“When I went up to check on him a little while ago, he’d trashed his room. Sat down with him and tried to get him to talk out what he’s feeling, but it was like talking to this stove. He’s cleaning up now.”