Lakeside Sweethearts Page 5

  “How much protecting are you doing by holing up here instead of trying to work things out with your wife?”

  A muscle jumped in the side of Pete’s jaw. He looked at her. “When did you get so sassy?”

  “I’ve always been sassy, Pete. Much to my mama’s shame. You’re scared…nothing wrong with admitting it. Just don’t let that fear keep you from missing out on the incredible blessings God has in store for your family. I promise you—that’s one regret you will be responsible for.”

  Amos barked from the porch a second before Griffin flung open the screen door and crashed into the room. “Agnes, what are you doing here?”

  She blinked rapidly to dismiss the evidence of her emotions and stretched a Texas-sized smile across her face. With purposeful strides, she crossed the room and flung an arm around his sweaty shoulders. “I came to pick up the cutest boy in the county and take him back to his uncle.”

  “Let me know when you find him.” The kid smirked as he headed for the sink. He filled up a glass with water, drank half, then poured the rest in Amos’s dish next to the stove.

  His dark hair plastered to his sweaty head. Dirt skimmed his legs below the hem of his red basketball shorts. His yellow Shelby Lake Lions Soccer T-shirt had a tear in the hem. Not the best duds to wear to see his mama. Maybe he had time for a quick shower.

  As if reading her mind, Pete nodded toward the staircase. “Hey, Bubba, grab a quick shower and put on clean clothes, but make it snappy because Agnes needs to get you back.”

  “Okay, Grandpa. I bet I can be back down in five minutes, Agnes.”

  “Take time to wash.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  He scampered up the steps with Amos on his trail.

  Before Agnes could resume her conversation with Pete, tires crunched in the driveway. A minute later, footsteps thumped on the porch; then Ian filled the doorway, a frown creasing his forehead. “What gives, Red? I thought you were meeting me to drop off Griffin.”

  She glanced at her watch and swallowed a groan, then nodded toward Pete, who had his back to them. “I was talking with Pete and lost track of time.”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed and a muscle jumped in the side of his jaw. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “About what?”

  “The weather…rain is in the forecast.”

  “Where’s Bubba? We need to get going.” He didn’t acknowledge his dad.

  How could those two be in the same room and not say as much as a “hello”?

  Agnes sighed and her eyes darted toward the staircase. “He’s in the shower but promises to be down in five.”

  “Fine. I’ll wait outside.” Ian turned and pushed through the door.

  “Ian…” She tossed a glance at Pete, who exhaled loudly and removed his ball cap to rake his hands through his hair. Feeling torn, she ventured onto the porch to check on Ian.

  She found him around the corner, leaning on the railing. She touched his shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” The flared nostrils and thinned lips betrayed his words.

  “I didn’t mean to lose track of time.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I can make up the time on the road.” He stared at the lake but clenched his jaw. “Did you and Dad have a nice little chat…about the weather?”

  She refused to let his sarcastic tone ruffle her feathers. She crossed her arms and pressed her back against the railing. “Did I fight your battles? No. Did I stir the hornet’s nest? Maybe. We’re in this together, Ian. So stop your sulking, because you asked me to be a part of this.”

  She longed to ease the worry and frustration from his brow. Pete and Ian shared many traits, including their stubbornness. She just hoped they’d come to a compromise before their family fell apart.

  *

  Little boys should be spending Saturday mornings eating sugary cereal while sprawled in front of the TV or kicking a soccer ball across the field. Not riding three hours to visit their mother in prison.

  Griffin stared out the backseat window. Ian could only imagine what he’d thought of this trip every other Saturday for the past four years.

  At least they didn’t have to make the trek alone.

  He glanced at Red sitting in the passenger seat. “Sorry for being a jerk earlier. Thanks again for coming with us.”

  “You’ve thanked me three times now. I get it—you’re appreciative…or else a big chicken to come by yourself.” She smiled to show she was teasing.

  No, that wasn’t it…he simply wanted to spend as much time with her as he could.

  And he did feel badly for acting like a jerk at the cabin. But that wasn’t her fault. Dad wouldn’t even look him in the eye like a man and say hello. But then he didn’t make much of an effort to greet him either. So they were both to blame.

  Ian tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he approached the front gate of Vanderfield Women’s State Correctional Institution. He shifted the engine into Park and reached for his wallet. “I need your driver’s license.”

  “I know the drill. Not my first rodeo.” She reached for her purse, dug the card out of her wallet and handed it to him.

  He took it, then snagged Griffin’s state ID card out of the cup holder and handed all three IDs to the stern gray-uniformed guard.

  Without a smile, the man checked their names against his visitors’ clipboard. He handed them back to Ian, then buzzed the front gate. “Have a nice day.”

  “You, too.”

  The gates slid back, allowing Ian to drive down the familiar lane to the visitors’ parking lot in front of the prison that looked more like an old college than a correctional facility. Except for the snipers in the watchtowers and the rolled razor wire atop the high electric fencing surrounding the compound.

  As soon as Ian shut off the engine, Griffin unbuckled his seat belt and scampered out the back door. Red rounded the front of the SUV and joined them. She ruffled Griffin’s hair. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes. Did I tell you Mom’s training a new dog?” Griffin shielded his eyes as he looked at Red and shared about his mother’s participation in the prison’s canine training program.

  “No, you didn’t. What kind?”

  “A yellow Lab named Otis. She’s had him for two weeks. He sleeps with her and everything.”

  “That’s cool. How long will she train this one?”

  “She said eight weeks altogether.”

  “Have you seen him yet?” Red finger-combed Griffin’s hair away from his face and straightened the collar on his red polo shirt.

  “Nah, but Mom described him in her letter.”

  “Let’s get inside so you can see him.” Placing a hand at the base of Griffin’s neck, Ian guided him toward the visitors’ entrance.

  Inside the door, they emptied their pockets. Ian dropped his wallet, phone and car keys in a bin. Agnes placed her purse in another bin. They allowed Ian to keep three dollars in change to buy snacks while visiting Zoe.

  Griffin ran ahead and pulled on the heavy glass door that opened into the visitors’ area.

  Cinder block walls painted tan, green vinyl-covered chairs and several scarred wooden tables filled the room. Inmates and their families sat at most of the tables. Griffin scuttled to their usual place in the corner closest to the snack machine and pulled out a chair, its feet screeching against the gleaming tile floor.

  Ian gave their names to the guard standing watch near the entrance to the prison cell blocks. He placed his hand on the small of Red’s back and guided her toward the table where Griffin sat on the edge of his chair, bouncing his knee and keeping his eyes glued to the door leading to the cells.

  The kid’s excitement at seeing his mom made Ian more determined than ever to get Agape House up and running.

  About five minutes later, a door buzzed.

  Zoe entered the room with Otis, the new yellow Lab Griffin mentioned his mom training as part of her role in the prison’s dog training program for almost three years.

  “Mom!” A grin cros
sed Griffin’s face. He bolted out of his chair, but Ian caught him around the waist and pulled him back.

  “You have to stay at the table. Remember? We can’t break the rules.”

  “Sorry. I just want to give her a hug.” His bottom lip popped out.

  Red draped an arm around his shoulders. “As soon as she comes to the table, you can.”

  With her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing the issued prison orange and tan slip-on shoes, Zoe hurried to their table and commanded Otis to sit.

  Griffin pushed off Red’s arm and flung himself at his mother. Zoe crushed him against her chest and buried her face into his neck. She brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed his temple, tears glazing her eyes.

  Ian blinked back the wetness that warmed the backs of his eyes and swallowed the lump clogging his throat.

  Their greetings and departures got to him every time.

  Red reached for his hand and squeezed gently. He returned the gesture, thankful for the hundredth time she had agreed to join them today. He hated these trips, but he’d do it for Griffin and Zoe.

  Ian caught the scowl marring the guard’s face. They discouraged prolonged physical contact. What damage could a kid hugging his mother do? But they needed to play by the rules so they could keep visiting.

  He caught her in a hug, then disengaged Griffin’s arms from around his mother’s neck. “Come on, Bubba. Let your mom sit.”

  After giving Red a quick hug, Zoe sat on one side and they sat across from her, as was procedure. A hug at greeting and one at departure, but no physical contact during the visit.

  Ian didn’t need to look under the table to know Zoe had her hands balled into fists in her lap. Her eyes drank in Griffin’s appearance, longing creasing her face. Longing that made him even more determined to bring his sister home. While Griffin filled his mom in on what was happening at school and with soccer, Ian waited for a pause in their conversation to bring up the latest with Agape House.

  “And Grandma bought a house. Grandpa’s been staying at the cabin.”

  Zoe jerked her gaze to Ian. “Why did Mom buy a house? And what’s going on with Dad?”

  Ian stretched out a leg and shoved his hand in his front pocket. He pulled out a handful of change. “Griff, I think your mom looks a little thirsty, don’t you? How about going to the pop machine and getting her a Dr Pepper?”

  “Sure. Is that what you want, Mom?”

  “A Dr Pepper would be great. But only if you have one, too.”

  “You want one, Agnes?”

  “Sure, I could use a Coke. How about if I come with you to help carry the cans?” Red started to stand, but Griffin waved for her to sit.

  “I can handle it.”

  She smiled. “I’m sure you can.”

  “What about you, Uncle Ian?”

  “No, thanks, Bubba.” Ian dropped the change into Griffin’s hand.

  Griffin slid back his chair and headed for the pop machine against the cinder block wall.

  Ian turned back to Zoe. “The board finally found a place for Agape House. Mom signed the papers last weekend. Agnes will be heading the volunteer committee to clean up and repaint the inside. I’m going to do the work on the roof and the other outside stuff. Mom’s pushing to have it ready before your hearing in August.”

  “So, why is Dad staying at the cabin?”

  Ian sighed and rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes. “He’s having a hard time dealing with all of this.” He really didn’t want to go into details. Not here. Especially with Griffin there, too.

  Zoe didn’t respond to Ian’s last comment. She dropped her eyes to the table and traced a gouge with her thumbnail. “It’s a great program, Ian. And I truly appreciate what you’re all doing….”

  “But?”

  “But you can’t do this for me.” She met his gaze and slumped against her chair.

  He hated the defeat weighing her down. “What? Of course we can. You’re my sister.”

  “I’m also a grown woman who needs to make her own choices and do what’s best for me. Stop trying to protect me.”

  Why did they have this same conversation every time he visited? Ian struggled to school his tone. “How about what’s best for Griffin? He needs his mother. Think of the other women who will benefit from this, too. And those kids who will have their moms back in their lives.”

  “You and Mom and Dad are doing a great job with him. So much more than I ever could. Even when I’m out, he’ll be better off with you guys.”

  Ian ground his teeth together. Forcing himself to relax, he glanced at Griffin feeding coins into the soda machine. “Would you like to put that to a vote? Because I guarantee you’ll lose. The kid’s counting down the days, sis. Each night he prays for you and crosses out another day on the calendar hanging on his wall. Tell me that’s a kid who’s better off without his mom. Stop thinking about yourself and focus on him.”

  She glared at him and blinked back tears. “Every waking minute is filled with thoughts of him, so don’t lecture me.”

  Red reached across the table and touched Zoe’s balled fist, but Ian pulled it back and gave her a slight shake of his head. He leaned close to her ear. “No physical contact allowed.”

  “I forgot.” Pink stole across Red’s cheeks. She gave Zoe an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Zoe.”

  “It is what it is.” Zoe sighed and smoothed a hand over her hair. “What kind of life do you think he’ll have when I’m out? My choices will affect him for the rest of his life. When he gets married and has kids. And those kids ask about his daddy. What’s he going to say then? Oh, my mom killed him in an accident because she drove drunk. He’s better off without me—you all are. Who wants a criminal for a mother?”

  Ian had no answers. He rested an elbow on the table and cupped a hand around his jaw.

  Red’s eyes darted between Ian and Zoe. She kept her voice neutral as she spoke, “Zoe, you’re right…to a point.”

  Ian jerked a look at her. What was she up to?

  She held up a hand, gesturing for him to chill out. She directed her gaze at Zoe. “Your choices have affected Griffin’s life, and they will since you’re his parent. But he’s not better off without you. He loves you and sees a mom, not a criminal. Now’s your chance to be the kind of mom he deserves. That’s a choice only you can make.”

  “But what if I can’t do it. What if I screw up again?”

  Ian reached for Zoe’s hand, then pulled back, remembering the no physical contact rule. “Zoe, you don’t have to go it alone. We’re here to help. After all, that’s what family is all about.”

  Chapter Five

  Would she ever get to a point when she didn’t want to run in the other direction when this house came into view?

  At least this time she didn’t freak out just stepping through the door.

  Agnes drew in a lungful of fresh air as she followed Charlotte James inside. A glance over her shoulder showed Ian standing on the threshold. Was he trying to ward off an escape attempt?

  Her flip-flops slapped against the entryway floor. She set her bucket of cleaning supplies next to the door, then dug in her tote bag for a notebook, pen, metal tape measure and camera.

  Her cutoffs and yellow tank top made her feel grungy next to Charlotte’s white blouse, navy trousers, pearl earrings and silver hair caught neatly in a clip.

  Charlotte turned and placed a hand on Agnes’s arm. “You sure about this, honey?”

  Agnes glanced at her friend’s long narrow polished fingers, veins mapping the backs of her soft hands.

  The past week had turned her life upside down. But she refused to let the bad memories in this house win. She’d fight back. Especially after their visit with Zoe.

  Griffin needed his mama back home where she belonged. Agnes would do whatever she needed to help make that happen.

  She pasted on a smile and wrapped an arm around Charlotte’s shoulders. “I gave you my word, and I’m not going to let you d
own.”

  The scrunched lines on Charlotte’s forehead softened. “You let me know if it gets to be too much.”

  “I’ll be fine. Let’s get started.” Agnes led them into the living room, then stopped. “The ugly carpet is gone.”

  Charlotte’s heels clicked against the exposed wooden floor. “I asked a couple of guys from church to rip it out yesterday.”

  “Good.” Agnes marched to the window and shoved it open, taking a moment to breathe in the afternoon breeze. She turned away from the window to find Charlotte checking out the living room while Ian leaned against the doorframe checking out…her.

  Her skin warmed under his gaze. She tugged on the hem of her tank top, trying not to let his watchful eyes unnerve her.

  What was he thinking? Waiting for her to crack and run like last time?

  She walked over to Charlotte, but the back of her neck prickled. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know Ian’s eyes followed her.

  What was his problem?

  Charlotte trailed her fingers along the mantel, then brushed the dust from her hands. “We have a lot of work to do to get this place ready.”

  “Mom, we’ll have it done in time. Stop worrying.” Ian’s deep voice echoed off the bare walls as he moved away from the doorjamb and placed his hands on Charlotte’s shoulders. “Red and her merry band of volunteers won’t let you down.”

  “Not worrying…I know everything will work out.” She reached for Agnes’s notebook and clicked the pen. “I’ll write while you take pictures or do whatever you need. What do you envision for this room?”

  Hands on hips, Agnes walked a slow circle around the room, trying not to let the despair weigh her down. “Hmm, what do you think about soft green walls, cream-colored draperies and perhaps an area rug with shades of green and tan? Doeskin-colored furniture, patterned throw pillows and chairs upholstered in the same print would complement the room. And maybe lamps on small tables for warm lighting.”

  “I like that.” Charlotte jotted notes, then glanced at Ian, who squatted and ran his hand over a buckled section in the floor. “What are you looking at, Ian?”