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Authors: Cathy Bryant

BOOK: A Path Less Traveled
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A few minutes
later the game got under way. During the first half of the inning, the Eagles
managed to shut out the Mariners. Their three line drives to Brody at first
base sent the other team to the field in a short amount of time. Trish rushed
up with Little Bo just as the Eagles were about to go to bat. Bo’s head hung
low and his bottom lip quivered.

“Sorry we’re
late.” With red, swollen eyes, Trish looked she’d had quite a crying jag.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a
crazy day.” She huffed a puff of air from her mouth and looked into the
distance. “Anyway, I’m going to sit in the stands if you don’t need me.”

If only she
realized how
much
he needed her. Andy watched her walk away, her skirt
bouncing around her calves as she gracefully maneuvered the steps in high
heels, her shoes clunking against the wooden bleachers. Little Bo slumped
against the chain link fence. Poor guy. He’d obviously had a rough day. “Hey,
buddy, you ready to play?”

Bo shook his head
from side to side, then brought his arm up to his nose and sniffled.

Andy patted his
back. “That’s okay. When you’re ready just let me know.”

The rest of the
game sped by in a blur. Andy attempted to keep his mind on the game, but it
kept straying back to real life. What was going on with Trish and Bo now?
Should he even bother asking about the carnival? One thought led to another,
and his focus soon turned to his father, the man who’d been responsible for his
existence—at least biologically.

He used his
sleeve to swab sweat from his forehead. At Lester’s funeral, he’d heard more
than one person comment about his father’s “condition,” but just couldn’t bring
himself to go check on the man. Instead, when the graveside service ended, he’d
expressed his regrets to Denise Hathcock, crawled into the Z, and headed back
to Miller’s Creek.

Andy crossed his
arms and then pursed his lips to spit out a sunflower seed shell. His father
hadn’t bothered with him or Matt when they were growing up, so why should he
give a hoot what happened to him?

Instant guilt
rained down. God had provided all he needed. Who was he to turn his back on
someone who needed God’s grace? The man was his father, good or bad. He’d find
the time to check on him, even if it meant a trip to Berringer.

The game ended
with another big win for the Eagles. Andy congratulated the guys, and after he
released them, they immediately charged toward the concession stand with cheers
and shouts, leaving sweaty smells in their wake. Bo slouched in the same
position he’d assumed for the entire game. Andy plopped beside him just as
Trish rounded the corner of the dugout.

“How come you
didn’t let him play?” Barely-concealed anger edged her question.

Andy’s hackles
rose. “He didn’t want to play. Why were you so late?”

“Work.” She
hoisted her chin, her eyes issuing a challenge.

He’d tried to
warn her about Bo last weekend. Didn’t she know her son took priority over a
stinking job? Couldn’t she tell his reluctance to play was her fault?

A cell phone
jangled, and Trish scrounged around in the suitcase she called a purse.
“Hello?”

Her gaze met
Andy’s and her face reddened. “Can I call you back later? I really can’t talk
right now.” Silence descended as she listened. “Yes, sir, I know.” She turned
her back, and took a few steps away. “Yes, I’ll put the check in the mail
tomorrow.” Trish clicked the cell phone shut and dropped it in her purse. Her
shoulders rose then sagged before she rotated to face him. “Bo, let’s go home
so we can talk.”

Bo stood and
trudged to his mother’s side, and they moved outside the fence. Trish grabbed
her son’s hand, then glanced at Andy briefly before they walked away.

He battled
conflicting emotions, his desire to spend time with them victorious over the
anger. What was the harm of asking? All she could do was say no. “Wait!”

Trish faced him,
and Andy jogged from the dugout to join them. “Would you and Bo like to go to
the end-of-school carnival in Morganville tomorrow night?”

Bo perked up, his
face radiating light. “Just like what we used to do before Daddy . . .” His
words trailed off and he lowered his head.

Trish pressed her
lips together for a moment. “I’m sorry. We can’t.”

Her son snapped
his head up, his brown eyes wide. “Why not?”

“When school’s
out tomorrow we’re leaving for Austin.” She sent her son a quick, close-mouthed
smile.

Andy’s heart
plunged to his stomach. So she’d reached her decision.

 

Chapter 17

 

“G
et in the car!” The
words pelted from Trish’s lips propelled by fury. Would Bo’s incessant whining
never end?

Her son burst
into tears and threw open the back car door with violent force, then climbed in
and slammed it behind him.

Trish unclenched
her fingers and released a deep breath, guilt seeping into her soul. Why had
she lost control again? She brought a hand to her forehead in a vain attempt to
rub away the lines that had become permanent fixtures on her face. It took so
little to make her snap lately.

She lugged the
suitcase to the back door of the Suburban and hoisted it in place, then climbed
in the driver’s seat. Sobs still sounded from the back seat, interspersed with
sniffs.

“I’m sorry I lost
my temper, Bo, but I need some time with Delaine.”

Bo didn’t answer,
but continued to sniff and stare out window. It was gonna be a long drive.

Trish backed out
of the driveway and headed toward Austin, a prayer on her heart.
Lord, help
us have a good time, but more importantly, give me answers. Show me what You
want me to do.

A few miles down
the road she checked the rearview mirror. Bo was already asleep. Her thoughts
turned to the look on her father’s face when she’d asked to borrow money for
the trip. Total shock. His words still echoed in her mind. “Are you really
thinking about moving?”

She’d assured him
the trip was just to visit Delaine, but she hadn’t been completely truthful.
This weekend was a test. A test to see how Little Bo responded to city life. A
test to see if she could make a go of her design business in Austin. Trish let
out a weary sigh and prayed once more for wisdom and direction.

Three hours later
they pulled into the driveway of Delaine’s posh two-story, Little Bo awake, but
unusually quiet.

Delaine flew out
the door and engulfed her in a hug. “Trish! It’s so good to see you.” Her
friend pulled away, her face framed by a hip new haircut. “We’re gonna have
such a good time catching up.” She knelt in front of Bo. “Hey, kiddo, remember
me?”

Bo nodded, one
corner of his mouth turned up in an attempted smile. At least he was trying.

“Hope you like
pizza, ‘cause the pizza guy just delivered a couple.”

His face
brightened. “I love pizza.”

Delaine’s musical
laughter filled the air, and she grabbed his hand. “Well, c’mon, then. Let’s go
inside and get some. I also picked up a few video games for you.”

He relinquished
Trish’s hand in favor of Delaine’s. So far, so good. Or was it? Apprehension
nibbled at her brain, but like an evasive mouse, it scurried away.

Later, the
pepperoni and supreme pizzas devoured, Trish followed Delaine to the plush
parlor for girl talk, suddenly feeling like a guest on
Lifestyles of the
Rich and Famous.
Was Delaine even the same person who shared sleepovers and
boyfriend talks? “I love your house, Delaine. You obviously don’t need my
services.”

Delaine laughed
and plopped down on the cushy couch. “Francesca, the woman who wants to see
your portfolio, just redid it for me. Have a seat.”

She relaxed into
the overstuffed sofa and inhaled. Everything smelled new and fresh. As much as
she loved her Texas ranch house, it
would
be nice to start over with a
clean canvas. To leave the bad memories behind. “You’ve done so much to make Bo
feel welcome with the pizza and video games. I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure,
though I must confess I had ulterior motives. I wanted to be able to talk with
you uninterrupted. If you don’t mind my saying so, kids can cramp your style.”

Trish reflected
on the statement. Did Delaine have a problem with Bo or just kids in general?
“So what’s been going on in your life?”

“Well, I’ve met
someone.” Her friend’s eyes took on a twinkle. “He’s a plastic surgeon with a
thriving practice.”

Girl talk for
“He’s loaded.”

“Best of all, he
doesn’t want children either.”

Trish felt her
eyebrows crank up a notch. “You don’t want kids?”

“Nope. For a while
I did, but I’ve seen how they change my friends’ lives, and not necessarily for
the better. There are too many other things I want to do.”

Trish sipped her
soda. “Such as?”

“Travel. See the
world. Build my business. You know, fun stuff.”

In other words,
stuff you could do when you didn’t have kids.

Delaine swung her
feet up to the sofa, her back against the arm of the couch, her perfectly
pedicured toenails inches away. “How are things going with you?”

Trish’s ego
deflated. No luxury two-story in a gated community. No plastic surgeon. Just
more of the same old routine. Take Bo to school. Try to find work. Wash
clothes. Feed Bo. Help him with his homework. Put him to bed. Then get up the
next day and do it all over again. “Not much to tell.”

“You mentioned
you picked up a couple of jobs in Morganville, right?”

“They’re small
jobs, but every little bit helps.”

Her friend’s eyes
narrowed. “Still having a rough time, huh?”

How tempted she
was to lie. Instead she nodded.

Delaine hugged
one of the velvety cushions to her chest. “You really should move to Austin.”

As usual, her
friend had wasted no time in applying the pressure. “I don’t know, Del—”

“It would be so
much easier for you here. You’d have all the work you want, plus some. Austin has great schools for Bo.” She hoisted a well-sculpted eyebrow, a suggestive smile
curling her lips. “I could introduce you to some of my available men friends.”

Andy’s dimpled
grin made its way to the front of her memory. “It’s still too early for that,
but there is someone in Miller’s Creek.”

Delaine
straightened, her eyes suddenly full of interest. “Really? Who?”

“The new city attorney. His name is Andy.”

“The same Andy Bo
talked about non-stop over supper? I got the impression he was Bo’s t-ball
coach.”

“He is.” Trish
combed a strand of hair behind her ear and curled her legs beneath her. “He’s
taken quite an interest in Bo.”

Her friend’s
expression changed to soft sadness. “Be careful, Trish. Just because he cares
about your son doesn’t mean he cares about you.”

Fire burned in
her veins. “I know that.” The words crabbed out of her mouth. Was Andy only
interested in being a father figure? She fingered her glass and stared, the
dark liquid like the muddy depths of her confusion. Andy’s face had been
crestfallen when she’d announced their trip to Austin. He truly loved her son.
Of that she had no doubt. But how did he feel about her?

Thankfully,
Delaine changed the subject, and the rest of the evening was spent reliving fun
high school times.

The next day at a
nearby water park, Bo, his hair wet and sticking up in cute spikes, grinned at
Delaine as she reclined on the chaise lounge near the kiddie pool. “Thanks for
bringing us to the water park, Miss Delaine. This is lots of fun.” He squinted
at Trish. “We need to tell Andy about this.”

Delaine peered at
Trish over the top of her designer sunglasses. “Honestly, if I hear him mention
that name one more time, I’m gonna scream. Are you sure it’s a good idea to let
Bo get attached to this man?”

“I’m not ‘tached
to him,” protested Little Bo. “I just like him. He’s a nice man who plays catch
and takes me horseback riding.”

Trish raised an
eyebrow at her friend. “He hears everything. Even when you don’t think he’s
listening.”

“Little pitchers
have big ears,” whispered Delaine under her breath with a hint of exasperation.

“I’m not a
pitcher. I play first base.”

With that last
remark ringing in their ears, Little Bo sprinted toward the water slide.

They shared a
laugh, then Delaine fanned her face with both hands. “I need something to
drink. It’s much hotter than I expected.”

Trish scanned the
pool area where Bo splashed around a giant mushroom fountain. “I actually think
the temps are very comfortable.”

“Want something
to drink?”

She thought about
her dwindling cash. “No, thanks.” She’d need the money for gas to get home.

“You didn’t eat
lunch, and now you’re not thirsty? In this heat?”

“I had a long
drink at the water fountain not long ago.”

When Delaine
returned a few minutes later, Trish tried not to ogle the tall raspberry
slushy, but instead monitored Bo’s movements.

Her friend
slurped through the straw. “I thought after we wore the kid out, I could hire a
high school girl I know to watch him tonight while you and I hit the
nightspots.”

A wad of
discomfort landed in her stomach. “Sorry, Delaine. I don’t leave Bo with people
I don’t know.”

“But I’ve already
made plans to meet some friends.”

“Go ahead and
meet them. I’ll stay with Bo.”

“But I invited
you down for the weekend. I’d feel bad.”

Trish waved a
hand. “Please. I don’t mind if you spend time with your friends. That would
give me time to enjoy that huge jetted swimming pool you call a bathtub.” And
time to think about what she should do.

Bo had enjoyed
the trip—a five-year-old boy’s dream with pizza, video games, and a water park.
Austin obviously offered more recreational activities than Miller’s Creek,
and the drive through the state’s capitol proved its growing-metropolis status.
There was new construction everywhere, and new construction meant plenty of
business.

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