Read The Sweet Gum Tree Page 19


  “Why Saudi Arabia?”

  He shrugged as I put my purse away. “A guy Dad met while he was in the army gave him a job with a big oil company. Dad ran the company’s garages.”

  “It must have been interesting to live in place with a culture so different from ours.”

  “Not really.” His attention was captured by the bookshelf against one wall and he moved closer, his gaze running over the books. “We lived in a compound the company provided for employees and their families. They even had a school. It was sort of like living in a small town. Are these the books my dad used when he stayed here?”

  “Most of them. I’ve added a few in the last two months. Your Dad said you like to read.”

  He glanced at me over his shoulder, dimples popping out when he grinned. “It wasn’t like I had much choice. Dad started reading to me about five minutes after I was born. Not kids’ books, either. He read me novels.”

  “What about your Mom? Did she read to you, too?”

  For a second he looked absolutely blank. “You mean Lindsey? No, she doesn’t like to read. Besides, she wasn’t around that much when I was little.”

  I wanted to ask why he called her by her first name, why she wasn’t around, but from the way his gaze avoided mine when he mentioned her, I couldn’t. There was something very wrong with this picture, something Daniel didn’t want to talk about.

  “Feel free to borrow any of the books you want. They should probably belong to you, anyway.”

  “Thanks. I’ll check them out later.” He turned and surveyed the room. “It looks just like Dad said.”

  I smiled. “There’s not much you can do to fancy up a room in a barn.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed facing me. “Why do you live here? Everybody says you’re rich, that you could live anywhere you wanted.”

  Taking a box pizza mix from the cabinet, I turned my back. “Hungry?”

  “Sure.”

  I got a bowl down and dumped the flour mixture into it. “For the record, I’m not rich, just moderately well-off. And I guess I live here because it doesn’t matter to me what it looks like. It’s home.”

  He nodded, a curious wisdom filling his eyes. “It is for Dad, too. Whenever he talked about home, it was always about you and the Judge, or this room, or the Chevy. I think he stayed homesick a lot.”

  Moving like an old lady, I covered the bowl of dough with a towel and sat it on the stove to rise, then took two sodas from the fridge and handed one to Daniel. I didn’t want to talk about Nick, or even think about what his life had been like all this time, but I didn’t know how to avoid it. He was Daniel’s father and the one link we had in common. Of course the boy would want to talk about him.

  I sat in the easy chair, my legs curled under me and sipped my soda. “If he was homesick, why didn’t he come back?”

  Daniel looked down at the can he was turning slowly in his hands. “He was trying to protect me. He didn’t want me to know about what happened with his father.”

  I closed my eyes briefly. Christ, that sounded like Nick. Always the protector, always the guy responsible for everyone else. And now it was clear that Daniel felt guilty for keeping his father from coming home.

  “I’m sure he only did it because he loves you, Daniel. And no matter what you hear from anyone else, your father is not the type of person who would do something like that deliberately. It happened because Frank gave him no choice.”

  “He told me. But that doesn’t stop people from staring at us every time we go out, and none of the kids around here will talk to me.”

  “I don’t think that has anything to do with your father. I think it’s because they don’t know you yet.” I got up to check the dough and prepare the pizza pans. “I have an idea. How would you like to work for me part time until school starts? Say in the evenings for a few hours? You could work in the electronics department with all the computers and video games. I bet you’ll get to know the kids real fast that way. There’s always a bunch hanging around.”

  “Honest?” His eyes lit up. “You’d do that?”

  “You bet. And you’d be doing me a favor. Most of the people working for me don’t know anything about computers except the basics. Why don’t you drop by tomorrow and we’ll get you started?”

  “I’ll have to ask Dad.”

  “Okay, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  He got up and moved to where I was spreading the dough onto the pans. “You put your own toppings on?”

  “Yes. They’re better that way. Want to help? You can do one and I’ll do the other.”

  While I listed the items, he took them from the fridge, and we spent the next few minutes piling ingredients on. Since my oven was so small, we had to cook them one at a time, and as we waited, Daniel regaled me with stories of the salvage yard, where, apparently, he’d been spending his days.

  “You should see it. They’ve got this huge backhoe, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. It just scoops those old cars up and dumps them on a flat bed trailer as neat as anything.”

  Well, that would sure make a lot of people happy, I thought ruefully. The salvage yard was in worse shape now than it had been when Frank still ran it. Waist-high weeds had taken over every available bare spot, with small trees growing in clumps that couldn’t mask the rusty hulks of metal. The City Beautification Committee hated the salvage yard with an unstoppable passion. They had tried on several occasions to have the county confiscate it for non-payment of taxes and plow it under, but there was a mystery surrounding the yard no one could figure out.

  Someone was paying the taxes on the place. According to the county tax assessor, every year when the taxes were due, someone would slip a plain white envelope into the night depository. All it contained was an untraceable money order and a typed note indicating that the money was to be used for taxes on the salvage yard. Foiled by this unknown person, the committee could only grit their mutual teeth and live with it. Now it looked like they were finally going to get what they wanted.

  “What’s your dad cleaning it up for?”

  “He’s going to build a garage. One that works on diesel and gasoline engines both. Bowie is going to help him run it after Lindsey leaves.”

  I was leaning over the oven, checking the pizza when he dropped that bombshell, and I jerked erect, burning my hand on the door in the process. I yelped, and instantly Daniel was by side, turning on the tap and shoving my hand under the cold water.

  “If you get the temperature down fast, it won’t blister,” he said, sounding so much like Nick I could barely breathe. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if he’d pulled out a tin of bee balm.

  My teeth ground together, but the question I was fighting slipped out anyway. “Lindsey isn’t going to live in Morganville?”

  “No. She said there were some things she had to do here, but after that she’s going to live near her mother.”

  Her mother? Liz had left a few years after Lindsey vanished, taking her brood with her. Rumor had it that she was living in Tunica now, working at one of the new casinos. In an odd sort of way, I missed her, although I knew Jenna breathed a sigh of relief when she left.

  What the hell was going on here? Nick and Lindsey had never married, Daniel acted like he barely knew his mother, Nick was building that huge house, and now Lindsey wasn’t even going to live in it with him. I felt like I’d been dumped without warning into an alternate universe, one where reality was skewed beyond recognition.

  I shook my head in confusion and realized Daniel was watching me, a concerned look on his face.

  “Are you okay? Maybe I should get Dad.”

  “No!” I forced myself to regain control, and smiled. “It’s fine, really.” I turned the tap off and dried my hand. “See? It’s not even red.”

  “Okay, but I’ll get the pizza out,” he said. He obviously no longer trusted my abilities around hot appliances. “It sure smells good.”

  It did, at that. The combined odors of mozz
arella, tomato sauce, basil, and pepperoni filled the room as he carried the pans carefully to the table.

  “Here.” I took the cutter out of a drawer and handed it to him. “You do the honors while I get the plates.”

  “You use plates?” He was concentrating intently on cutting the pizzas.

  I laughed. “You would too if you’d grown up with my aunt.”

  “Which one? Darla?”

  Surprised, I stopped and glanced at him. “You know about Aunt Darla?”

  “I know about your whole family.”

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out. It was almost a relief when someone knocked on the door, even though I was pretty sure I knew who it was.

  I was right.

  “I decided to see if my kid was holding you hostage,” Nick said. “He’s been here over an hour.”

  “You shouldn’t have waited. I can take him home when he’s ready to go.”

  “Hey, Dad. Look at this. I helped Alix make pizza.”

  Nick gave me a half-grin and squeezed through the door in spite of my arm partially blocking the entrance. “So that’s what I smelled.” He pulled a chair out and sat down next to Daniel. “Looks good, too. Are those pickled banana peppers on top?”

  Daniel’s brow wrinkled. “Yeah. I wasn’t too sure about those, but Alix says she puts them on all the time. Want a soda?”

  I sighed. It would seem Nick was staying for supper, whether I wanted him to or not. I couldn’t throw him out on his ear with his son watching. “I’ll get it.” I motioned Daniel back to his seat. While I was getting the soda, I got another place setting and joined them, noting the way they were looking at the forks then at each other, amusement sparkling in their eyes.

  “If you want to burn your fingers off, it’s fine with me,” I declared loftily. “But I’m eating in a civilized manner.”

  They shot me identical grins before they charged the pans like race horses released from the starting gate.

  “You’d think no one ever feeds you,” I grumbled, using a spatula to slide a wedge-shaped slice onto my plate.

  “Bowie does all the cooking at home,” Daniel spoke around a full mouth.

  “He used to be a mess hall sergeant,” Nick added. “And it shows. No matter what he cooks, it all tastes the same. Like shoe leather covered in paste. I still have dreams about your Aunt Jane’s fried chicken and your mother’s cornbread.”

  “Guess what, Dad? Alix wants me to work for her. Is it okay?”

  Nick frowned. “You’re a little young to hold down a job, aren’t you?”

  I swallowed quickly. “It’s won’t be full-time. Just a few hours in the afternoon until school starts. It will give him a chance to meet some of the kids in town, and make a little money, too.”

  “He doesn’t need the money.”

  “And I didn’t imply he did.” I bristled, glaring at Nick. “Anyone who works for me gets paid.”

  “Come on, Dad. She said I could work in the electronic department where all the kids hang out.”

  Nick’s expression softened as he looked at his son. “Daniel, you don’t know what the people in this town can be like.”

  “Yes, I do.” His eyes, so much like Nick’s, got a stubborn glint and his chin squared. “And I know they aren’t ever going to change their minds about us if we don’t make them. I’m not gonna hide, Dad.”

  Nick stayed silent while I looked at Daniel in amazement. I’d seen adults crumble under the weight of the town’s disapproval. They could have taken lesson from this boy.

  Finally, Nick nodded. “As long as you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

  “I do, and I’m not worried.”

  “Then I guess you’ve got yourself a job.” Nick glanced at me. “I’ll help you clean up.”

  “Thanks, but there’s not that much. I can handle it.”

  “I insist. After all, you cooked.”

  Daniel stood. “Can I go check out the Chevy’s motor?”

  For once, I didn’t mind being alone with Nick. “Help yourself.” I smiled as Daniel hurried out the door.

  Standing, I gathered the plates and carried them to the sink. “He’s a great kid. You’ve done a good job with him.”

  Nick gave me a wry smile as he picked up the now empty pizza pans and followed me to the sink. “I don’t think I had much to do with it. He’s been that way since he was born. He’s taught me more than I have him. It never occurred to me to stand up to the people in Morganville when I was growing up.”

  “It wouldn’t have Daniel either, if he’d been raised the way you were. You gave him the confidence to stand up to them. And you were right. He’s a tough kid.”

  “Maybe.” He still looked troubled. “I just hope he’s tough enough.”

  “If it will help, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  He picked up the drying towel and shook his head. “No. Let him handle it himself. It’s what he wants.”

  My curiosity took control of my mouth as I watched him. “If you were so worried about what this would do to him, why did you come back?”

  He stopped, the plate he was drying ridiculously tiny in his hands, and focused his gaze on mine. “Daniel and Lindsey talked me into it. I guess they know this is home to me, whether I like it or not. My roots are here, and always will be.”

  I tore my gaze away and continued washing the dishes. “Daniel feels guilty for keeping you away so long.”

  “I know.” He went back to drying, putting the dishes away as he finished them. “I’m working on it.”

  “Good.” I let the water out of the sink and rinsed the suds down the drain. “All done.”

  You can leave now, I added mentally. The way the small kitchenette was arranged, I was pinned between the stove, the sink, and Nick’s body, and I wasn’t enjoying it one bit. He was way too close for my liking.

  And he was aware of it, too. Before I could slide by him, he put one hand under my chin and forced me to look at him.

  “Do you want to know the real reason I came back, Alix? It was because of you. You’re my roots. Wherever you are would be home to me.”

  “Don’t.” I choked the word out, pushing with all my strength at his hand. “You can’t make me believe your lies anymore, because I don’t care. Do you understand me, Nick? I don’t care.”

  He took a step back, his eyes puzzled and sad. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, Alix, but I never lied. Not once. And if it takes me the rest of my life, I’ll make you care again. That’s a promise.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Daniel showed up at Southern Supply the next afternoon dressed for business in a white, button-down shirt and khaki pants. I turned the store over to Kenny and spent the next two hours showing him around and outlining his duties, then worked with him a while so he could get the general idea. He picked everything up so fast that I promised he could work alone the next day.

  But even though I trusted him, my curiosity was killing me, and after an hour I strolled by the electronic department, doing my best to appear casual and unconcerned. Daniel was busily and enthusiastically singing the praises of a new video game to a boy who looked about his age, and two teenaged girls. The boy’s attention was fixed solidly on the game, but the girls couldn’t seem to take their eyes off Daniel, and I smiled.

  I had hoped that since the kids his age were too young to remember Nick or Frank, they wouldn’t have their parents built-in prejudices. It looked like I was right. While naturally wary of strangers, as most kids that age are, Daniel’s friendly, outgoing personality, combined with his good looks, was winning them over. Getting the kids on his side was half the battle.

  After his parting shot the night I fixed pizza, I rather expected Nick to use picking Daniel up as an excuse to come by the store, but I didn’t see him again for a few days. Instead, I finally got to meet Bowie Grant.

  He was a bear of a man with a thick mop of steel gray hair. Only his warm, chocolate brown eyes kept his size from being intimidat
ing. They smiled constantly, making the recipient of his gaze feel like they’d been blessed by an angel’s kiss.

  “It seems like I’ve known you and your family forever,” he stated, with my hand engulfed in his. “Nick talked about all of you constantly.”

  I couldn’t help but return his smile. Bowie was the kind of man who could coax a reaction from the sphinx. “I’ve heard a bit about you, too.”

  “Don’t believe a word of it.” He gave Daniel a mock scowl. “My cooking isn’t nearly as bad they let on. I would like to learn how to fix southern style food, though. Maybe we can swap recipes sometime?”

  “Sure. But I have to tell you, I’m not the real cook in the family. If you’re serious, you need to talk to my Aunt Darla. She’s the expert. There’s nothing she doesn’t know about cooking.” I paused. “Come to think about it, there’s nothing she doesn’t know, period. Just be prepared to have your soul saved while she’s teaching you.”

  I watched in fascination as he threw his head back and roared with laughter. “I’ve heard all about Darla,” he said, wiping tears of merriment from his eyes. “I can’t wait to meet her. She sounds like a hell of a woman.”

  Aunt Darla? My Aunt Darla? The man obviously enjoyed a challenge. Either that, or he was masochistic. But in spite of his apparent mental condition, I liked him.

  Shortly after they left, it occurred to me that the only one in Nick’s family I hadn’t seen since their return was Lindsey, and if it were up to me, I’d never lay eyes on her again. My feelings toward her were so complicated that they resembled a ball of string, each emotion making up one strand, hundreds of strands twisted and knotted together until they were impossible to separate.

  I suppose if I’m being honest, I have to admit there was some jealousy involved, but it was least of what I felt. The hate was stronger. She had taken away the only man I ever really wanted, at the time I needed him the most. She’d shared his life with him and given him a living child. She’d taken the place that should have been mine.

  But even the hate was overshadowed by the one thing I could never forget. She had made a fool of me. And there speaks the human ego, the voice inside us all that screams “Me! Me!” in a never-ending litany.