Her Secret, His Son Page 2

  “Boy, you gonna talk like that, I just might not stay here and help you with all those dishes,” Jackson threw back.

  “That kind of help I don’t need!”

  A lively argument followed Sara into her bathroom. She laughed as she pinned her hair on top of her head and turned on the faucets full blast.

  When she was luxuriating in the hot frothy water, she realized she couldn’t hear anything coming from the kitchen and idly wondered why the two men had lowered their voices. She had a sneaking suspicion that they were speaking softly because she was the object of their conversation and promptly decided to lengthen their list of household chores the next day. She hated the idea that they had so much time on their hands they could stand around talking instead of working.

  “IT ISN’T RIGHT she has to put up with that kind of crap around here,” Tim said, washing a glass with more force than necessary. “If she was smart, she’d sell the station and go someplace where she could have a normal life. She’s talked about it before, but for some reason she won’t do it.”

  “And do what if she did move away? Your ma never finished gettin’ her degree. She don’t have no skills but what Harvey and me taught her,” Jackson argued. “You tell me how many gas stations would hire a woman to do the work she does here, not to mention pay her enough money to support the two of you.”

  “Then I’ll get a job and support her.”

  “Ha! That’s a dumb idea and you know it. What can you do ‘sides hot-wire a car?” Jackson scorned. “All that’ll get you is a few years in a detention home, and you wouldn’t be much help to her there, would you?”

  Tim flushed, a sure sign of the anger he felt at himself more than at the man who was honestly trying to help him. He hated being young and he hated this town. While many people looked for the peace and solitude Henderson, North Carolina offered, he wasn’t one of them. He knew the constant fights he got into at school upset his mother and likewise upset him, because he loved her dearly. The trouble was, she didn’t know what was said and had been said over the years, because he didn’t want her to know. From the first time he had been called a bastard, he had fought back the only way he knew how-with his fists. By now he didn’t know any other way. While many boys his age were caught up in sports and girls, he rode his motorcycle all over the countryside, looking for a place where no one cared about his parentage. He just couldn’t understand what his mother saw in this town. Ever since he could remember, most of the people here treated her like dirt, and she took it quietly. And she wasn’t a wimp; no, he knew better. But every time he talked to her about moving, she only shook her head and talked about roots.

  Roots. That seemed a funny word to come from someone whose parents couldn’t handle her pregnancy and didn’t know what to do or say to her and who, in the end, allowed her to move out, because she couldn’t handle their silent looks of reproach and her mother’s continual talk of ruining her life. Tim learned more about his grandparents from Jackson than from his mother and was relieved they had died years ago when he was still a young boy. All Sara ever said about her parents was that they had been unhappy people and should be viewed as such. Tim was glad he had never known them, since they had refused to have anything to do with their grandson. He’d seen them at a distance many times, but they never acknowledged him, and in his anger at their treatment of his mother, he wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with them anyway. Instead, he went on loving his mother in the best way he knew how. Deep down he was aware it was the wrong way, because he also hurt her, but what else could he do? It was at times like this he wished he had someone to talk to. To find out why he felt the way he did. Then maybe he wouldn’t hurt so much inside.

  At the same time would he really want to move away now, when the most beautiful girl he had ever seen had just moved into town and attended his school? Lora Summers had mink-brown hair, hazel eyes and the prettiest smile, and since her first day at school Tim hadn’t missed his English class once so he could sit across from her and just look. So far he hadn’t felt comfortable enough to say even one word to her.

  Amazingly Tim finished the dishes without a single mishap, considering his thoughts weren’t once on his task. He tossed the towel into the sink and turned to Jackson, who sat at the table with his glass of whiskey.

  “It’s all his fault,” Tim told him. There was no need to identify who. Tim’s fury at the man who had fathered him had grown throughout the years. “If he showed up now, I’d shoot him dead.”

  Jackson shook his head. “No, boy, that wouldn’t get you nothing but more misery. From what Sara once said, he never knew where she came from. When she tried to contact him through his parents, she was told they didn’t know or care where he was. I want to see the girl happy again, and I wish she would have married.”

  Tim wasn’t sure he liked that idea, because he would have had to share his mother with someone else, and who was to say another man would want him around. In fact, he had an idea one or two of the men who wanted to marry her years ago didn’t want a readymade family. He picked up his jacket and shrugged it on.

  “You shouldn’t be going out on a school night,” Jackson said, watching him open the door.

  “No, but that’s never stopped me before.” He slammed the door behind him. The roar of his motorcycle was heard next.

  Jackson slowly rose to his feet and walked out to the living room to watch television.

  “Sara, Dynasty’s on,” he shouted. “You gonna come out and watch it?”

  “I don’t think so,” she called back. “Is Tim out there with you?”

  “No, he left a few minutes ago.”

  There was only a long charged silence after his reply. Jackson wished he hadn’t had to tell her and damned the boy for making life so difficult for her.

  When Sara emerged from her bath a half hour later, she found Jackson snoozing in the easy chair in front of the television and Tim gone. She poured herself a glass of wine and curled up on the couch to watch TV. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Jackson woke up, loudly insisting he hadn’t fallen asleep, that he was just resting his eyes. Sara would smile and agree, and before too long she would go to bed to lie awake until Tim came home. She wanted to tell her son she feared these nights. She wanted to beg him to talk to her, to tell her what he was feeling inside, and that if they could talk it all out, just maybe he wouldn’t feel so angry at the world. She began to wish he was five years old again. Things were so much simpler then.

  WHEN SARA ARRIVED the next morning, Jackson was already there at the station sitting in a chair just outside the office, sipping a cup of coffee and watching cars head out of town toward the mill. Sara poured herself a cup and sipped carefully, knowing Jackson’s coffee tended to be a little water mixed in with the grounds. As usual it was strong enough to float the entire U.S. Navy. She glanced at the dusty, dark blue pickup waiting inside the garage. “Is that Calvin’s truck?” she groaned.

  “Yep. He claims it needs a tune-up,” Jackson told her. Sara grimaced and glanced around warily. “Where is he? Generally he insists on remaining the entire time complaining how we charge too much and we’re too slow. Then he’ll threaten to take his truck to Charlotte next time. I don’t know if he’s worth all the trouble.”

  “Said he wanted to walk over to Hank’s for a haircut. He may complain but he always pays in cash,” he reminded her.

  “I guess he’s worth the trouble.”

  The day turned out to be slow. Jackson tuned up the truck, and as Sara predicted, the owner, one of Jackson’s poker-playing cronies, stayed to watch and tell Jackson how to do his work. Sara remained in the office working on the books, only stopping when someone pulled up for gas.

  When a dark blue Toyota sedan stopped. Sara’s face lit up, and she hurried out to the pumps.

  “Hello, Sara.” A sprightly redhead hopped out of the car. “How is it going?”

  “Same as always. How are you doing, Tess?” Sara opened the gas cap and pushed in the n
ozzle.

  “I’d be fine if I had more hours in the day,” she replied. “It seems everyone needs Mom to go to the cleaners or to pick up the shoes at the repair shop or buy milk, and so what if she has plans of her own. Moms are superwomen and can get everything done with ease.” Tess took in her friend’s pale features and the evidence of a sleepless night in her eyes. “Why don’t you go shopping with me?” she suggested. “We could have a day to ourselves, eat something fattening for lunch and all that good stuff.”

  “No, thanks, Tess. I have so much to do around here,” Sara said a bit too cheerfully.

  Tess shook her head. “You’ve never been a very good liar, Sara Murdock. Even when we were eight and you told Mr. Samuels you broke his window when Cal was the one who did it, Mr. Samuels could tell you were lying. Your face always gets that funny shade of pink, and you can never look anyone in the eye. And don’t give me your scarlet-woman routine either. You need to get out more. Living here with a teenage son and an old man isn’t good for you. When was the last time you had a day all to yourself? Come to think of it, when was the last time you had a date?”

  Sara smiled. “The last time I attended a church social, Mrs. Masterson almost had a coronary.”

  “Big deal! She has one every week like clockwork,” Tess scoffed. “Besides, church functions don’t count. You need to go out with a man and do something totally frivolous.”

  “Tess, in case you haven’t noticed, there isn’t exactly an influx of single men in this town,” Sara pointed out.

  “All right, play stubborn. You’ve always been good at that. You will be at church Sunday, though, to see the new minister, won’t you? Mrs. Harris said he’s a very well-mannered young man and should be a contribution to the community.” She imitated the minister’s housekeeper’s nasal tones. “Of course, sixty could be young to her.”

  “Have I ever missed church? You know how much Mrs. Masterson enjoys seeing me there and telling me how she’s praying for my soul.”

  Sara’s lighthearted tone was a sham, and Tess knew it. She also knew she was one of the few to stand behind her friend during her trouble and was grateful her husband refused to listen to some of the other men’s ribald comments regarding Sara’s morals. Instead, Charlie told them what they could do with their ideas. Tess had sat with Sara On many nights when she felt sorry for herself and wished she had remained in Henderson instead of going away to school. The only thing Sara refused to share with Tess, or anyone, was the man’s name. For all these years Sara never mentioned the man she had fallen in love with and conceived a child with. Tess hurt for her friend and would do anything for her. Right now she wanted to see her happy, and her idea of happy was to have a loving man by her side. But Sara was right, there weren’t that many eligible men in town.

  Tess glanced over at the pump to see the amount owed and dug into her purse for her wallet. “Are you sure you won’t go shopping with me? We haven’t had a day out together in ages.”

  “No, thanks, I have too much to do here.”

  “Then will you promise to think about taking a day off in the next week or so?”

  “If I can,” was all Sara would say. Tess bluntly told her she didn’t believe one word she said, but her tone carried the affection of a longtime friendship. Sara remained by the pumps and watched her friend drive away with a honk of the horn and a wave. Tess had been wonderful to her over the years, and she only wished she could do more in return.

  “WE’RE GOING TO ROAST in that old building,” Tim muttered, as they left the car and walked toward the large, white, painted clapboard church Sara had attended since childhood.

  “You haven’t yet, so I wouldn’t worry about it now. Miss Lawrence, how are you?” Sara smiled at a silver-haired woman who walked slowly ahead of them. The woman had been her first-grade teacher and was known to never forget a pupil in the many years she had taught school.

  “Good morning, Sara. I am doing well, and you certainly look cool and refreshing today in that blue dress.” The merciless dark eyes stared at Tim, who shifted uneasily under her regard. “Timothy, I do hope you’ve given up some of your bad habits.”

  “Miss Lawrence,” he muttered.

  “That was one of them right there,” the retired teacher rapped out in a voice still strong. “You never spoke up. You must learn to speak clearly, my boy.”

  “Yes’m.”

  Sara shifted her eyes toward her son as the elderly woman walked ahead of them. “She never forgets any of her past students.”

  “No kidding. I just wish I was one she would forget. Jackson’s smart to stay home,” he mumbled, as they walked up the dusty path to the church.

  “Jackson just likes to brag to everyone he’s a heathen,” she replied, waving to one woman who had called out her name. “He hasn’t attended church in more than thirty years, and I think he’s afraid to break his perfect record.”

  Sara doubted anything had changed in the fifteen years she had come with Tim in tow, from the time he was a tiny baby to now. Quite a few people, generally those in her age group, greeted her with natural smiles and questions about her health. She realized the people who viewed her more dimly were members of another age, who would brand any unwed mother with colorful morals without bothering to look into the circumstances or even care that the woman was a longtime member of their town and hadn’t done anything wrong, other than to have her child alone. After living with Jackson for so long she knew better than most that old habits were hard to break, especially among the older people. They were the ones who nodded coolly, if acknowledging her at all, and walked on into the foyer. Among these “upright” citizens Tim stayed close to his mother and scowled at the gray-haired and blue-rinsed ladies, his swaggering stance giving credibility to their predictions that “nothing good will come from that boy, just wait and see.”

  Sara nodded politely to Mrs. Masterson, a plump woman in her sixties who hadn’t had a kind word for anyone in more than forty years. She didn’t notice Tim offer a shy smile to the young girl following Mrs. Masterson, but the older woman had and immediately ushered her granddaughter inside. As one of the leading matriarchs in Henderson’s limited society no one dared openly defy her, except for Sara. She knew every time she walked into the same room the older woman was in, she defied her, and while Sara never gloated or treated her with the least bit of disrespect, Mrs. Masterson still viewed her as an undesirable. Sara doubted that the woman’s opinion of her would ever change.

  “Have you seen the new minister yet?” Carol Peterson, another old friend since grade school, edged up behind Sara.

  “No, why?”

  “Sara, if I wasn’t married, I’d be inviting that man over for Sunday dinner every week.” She wrinkled her nose in delight. “He is positively yummy. And single to boot.”

  She chuckled. “That good, huh?” She glanced toward the front, but could only see Reverend Mapes’s kindly features as he talked to another man, tall and dark haired. For a moment she felt something tickle the back of her memory, but just as quickly she squelched it. No, the last place she would see him would be here. Jess wasn’t the churchgoing type. Funny how she would think of him after so long. Maybe Tess was right, and she should consider dating again. Too bad the only new single man in town was the minister. She smothered a laugh. That would certainly set a few people back on their ears if she caught the man’s eye.

  “Good? I’ll be having a rough time listening to any sermon, because I’ll be too busy looking at him,” Carol said. “You know, with him so dark and you so blond, you’d make a good-looking couple.”

  Sara glanced in Mrs. Masterson’s direction. “I’m sure that would really set a few people back,” she said drily. “They’d probably order me burned at the stake for seducing a man of God. No, I think I’d be better off doing my looking out of town.”

  Carol groaned as she heard a loudly voiced “Mom!”

  “They’re probably arguing over who sits closest to the aisle.” She referred to he
r seven-year-old twin sons. “See you later.”

  When the organ began to play the opening music, Sara walked down the aisle toward the pew she usually sat in. This was one of the times she enjoyed best, listening to the soft strains of the opening hymn and allowing her mind to clear of everything but the hour ahead. She glanced through the bulletin to read the many announcements. She noted she was scheduled to work in the nursery next week and dug into her purse for a pen to circle the date. She glanced up, smiling at the warm features of Reverend Mapes then her smile froze when her eyes shifted to the younger man seated beside him. The man she had only seen from the back a few moments ago. A man with chestnut-colored hair and deep brown eyes, a man whose smile likewise stilled when his gaze alighted on her and his eyes widened in recognition.

  “No,” she whispered hoarsely, fighting the white spots dancing before her eyes. “No.” Memories flooded back with a vengeance. Times of laughter, of loving, of tears. Times she had forgotten over the years, because she had no choice but to do so and because a young woman’s love for a young man couldn’t survive as she matured. “No, it’s all a dream. A very bad dream.”

  “Mom?” Tim looked at her, his face pale with alarm as he watched her stunned expression turn to horror.

  “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  She wanted to laugh. Carol said he was yummy. Yes, she had once thought that. Sara sat there waiting for hurt and anger to wash over her, but nothing happened. It was all gone as it should be. Sometimes in the dead of night she wondered what would happen if she saw him again. Now she knew, and she still thought about laughing, but she was afraid if she started she wouldn’t be able to stop. Lost in the dark gray haze surrounding her, she didn’t realize the man she had stared at so intently had half risen from his seat, because she had already sunk into a deep, dark sea of forgetfulness. Just as the darkness overtook her she wondered if everything would be back to normal when she woke up and the man up there would turn out to be anyone but Jess.