Abiding Love (4 page)

“Sure, but like I said, it was really more like he was my uncle. An older guy but fun. He took me on adventures. But then he showed up three months after Mom was killed and dragged me across the country to live here. Now he thinks he has to be my father, and the fun uncle is gone.”

“Is living with him here really so bad?”

“It isn’t even like there’s family here for either of us. And he bagged his career. For what?”

“You?” she ventured. When all Mark did was slump a little lower in the chair, Xandra went on. “Could your dad have left you with your aunt? Was she willing to have you live with her?” Mark nodded. “And you were doing okay in school. Getting good grades. Not getting in trouble. So he had no reason to think you’d be a burden to her, did he? No reason to feel undue guilt if he left you there?”

Mark sullenly shook his head.

“Then I’d guess he
wants
you with him. And he must think being with you is worth giving up the Navy for.”

Mark sat up, his eyes suddenly alive, shining. “But he wasn’t just in the Navy. He was a
SEAL!
Don’t you see? You only get to be a SEAL by being the
best. Everybody looks up to them. Women ask
them
out. I bet my dad’s had a different girlfriend every time I went to see him at Coronado.

“And did you know he went to Annapolis? His parents tried to stop him, but he got in touch with some senator all by himself and the guy helped get him into Annapolis because Dad was so smart. After that, he tried out for the SEALs and made it through BUD/S. They call the last week of BUD/S ‘hell week’ because it’s so hard. Eighty percent don’t make it through.”

She fought a smile. Adam Boyer was his son’s hero. But he’d never been a father, and now that he was breaking out of his hero mold, Mark didn’t know what to make of this new man with clay feet.

“Mark, do you talk to your dad? Not about sports or what you’re planning to do for vacations together. I mean about really important things like what you’re feeling.”

Mark blushed. “Guys don’t talk about stuff like that.”

“Do me a favor, Mark. Tonight, I want you to tell him how you feel about…let’s start with something easy, your first detention yesterday. And the suspension today. Will you do that, then come tell me what happens?”

“Why?”

“Because I think your dad loves you and very much wants to be a father to you. He just may not know exactly how to do that on a twenty-four/seven basis. And I don’t think you know how to take him
as a twenty-four/seven father, either. Relationships take work. They take talking out feelings, not acting them out the way you did yesterday by cutting class to try to force him to send you back to your aunt. He’s a very stubborn man. He didn’t get through—what did you call it?—hell week without being stubborn. You have to see you’re with him to stay. Rather than chance ruining both your lives, I think you’d better try to make the best of it.”

And for Mark’s sake, she’d try to make the best of dealing with a man who was larger than life and twice as scary. She just wished she didn’t get the feeling that Adam Boyer was somehow going to cause a huge upheaval in her life. One she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for.

“B
oy, it really stunk,” Mark said out of the clear blue.

Adam looked up at his son from the uninspiring dinner they were both trying to choke down. There was a hunger in Mark’s green eyes that Adam had a feeling had nothing to do with the poor excuse of a dinner. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with anything deeper than his own lack of culinary talent.

“Sorry your ol’ dad isn’t much of a cook. Too many years of at the mess or eating Meals Ready to Eat.” He grinned. “And sometimes bugs, if the MRE’s ran out on deployment.”

“Oh, gross on the bugs.” Mark rolled his eyes. “The MRE’s you bring on camping trips are lots better than this. Maybe we should find a commissary and get some. But I wasn’t talking about dinner,” Mark said, waving his sawdust-like burger in the air. “I mean the detention yesterday and sitting in that room
all day today is what stunk. I never had to sit in—” He hesitated, his smooth forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Well, I guess the ‘bad chair’ is the best way to describe the way it felt.”

“The bad chair?”

“In kindergarten and first grade, kids who caused trouble had to sit in a special chair in the back of the class. The bad chair.”

Adam grinned. “Sailors have to wash dishes or paint.”

Mark cracked up and dropped his dry burger to his plate as he looked around the messy kitchen. “Guess you didn’t get into trouble much, either.”

Adam laughed. “SEALs do push-ups and run laps. We’re special.” Still grinning, he looked around at the kitchen disaster the small meal—and the others for a week—had left behind. “I think we’re both in trouble now. We need help. Someone to cook and clean up this place.”

“Yeah. For a while I figured with a house this big, we could just move rooms when they got too messy, but there’s only one kitchen.” Mark tipped his nose in the air and attempted a British accent. “Rather foolish of the previous Boyers not to plan ahead with a few auxiliary kitchens.”

“You have no idea how foolish the previous Boyers were and are, son. Someday I might explain some recent ancient history. In the meantime, let’s ditch this slop and go grab a decent burger at the deli in town. Then I’ll tackle this mess on a full stomach.”

“I’ll help.”

“No. You’ll do your homework.”

“I did it while I was in the bad chair,” Mark said with a shrug. His eyes, however didn’t reflect the carelessness of the gesture.

Adam frowned. That wasn’t the way the day had been explained in the note he’d been given. “I thought you were supposed to only do the day work assigned today and save homework for tonight.”

His tone tinged with defiance, Mark said, “Yeah, well I got done it all early. After I talked to Ms. Lexington and got the assignments for tonight, I did them, too. I figured if they were stupid enough to think it would take me all day to do a few hours’ work, they’d never suspect what I was working on.”

“Mark, you can’t bend the rules to suit you. Rules are rules for a reason.” Adam pushed his plate away from himself. “Breaking rules is what got you in trouble in the first place. If you’d been caught, you’d probably have gotten another detention.”

Mark jumped to his feet. “You know, for a while I thought Ms. Lexington was right. That telling you how I felt would make you see who I am, but you won’t. You used to be fun. Now you’re my commander instead of my dad, the way you used to be. Forget dinner. I’m not hungry anymore. I’ll go pretend my room is detention and put in my time there.”

Adam sighed and took a bite of his cardboard hamburger as Mark stormed from the room. He glared at the unappealing mess and tossed it on his plate. Where had Mark’s outburst come from? And why did the kid take offense at the least little correction? Did
Adam really act like a commander, rather than a father? He hadn’t been around Jerry and Mark much, but there had been enough contact over the years that Adam had seen Jerry rein Mark in a time or two.

Things had been going so well. Better than usual. He shook his head, remembering something Mark had said.
For a while I thought Ms. Lexington was right. That telling you how I felt would make you see who I am, but you don’t.

So Alexandra Lexington was behind Mark’s momentary turnaround. He wished she’d given him the heads-up. Maybe then he wouldn’t have blown it with Mark. Again. Maybe then he could have figured out what Mark had been trying to say.

Adam withstood two days of one-word answers from Mark before he called the school and asked for an appointment with Alexandra Lexington on Monday morning. He’d dressed in a pair of chinos and an oxford cloth shirt this time, since he didn’t want to humiliate himself along with his uniform.

Swallowing his pride wasn’t easy, but he couldn’t forget her warnings about the eventuality of Mark being picked up by the police and that his eighteenth birthday loomed only a couple of years ahead. She’d hit a nerve with that one. He himself had walked away from his home and family at eighteen thinking he was a whole lot older than he was. He didn’t want to repeat his parents’ mistakes or continue on the same path that had led to his own lonely history.

As he walked toward the guidance counselor’s of
fice, Adam tried to prepare himself to eat crow. It was contrary to every bit of training he’d been given and everything he’d ever learned, but for Mark he’d do anything. Maybe Alexandra Lexington could help.

Maybe.

She was alone in her little airless cubicle of an office, staring at a small photo book, but her gaze was unfocused. She looked wistful and sad. It was more of the vulnerability he’d glimpsed in their first meeting. It was a vulnerability not reflected by her tweed jacket, white no-nonsense blouse or the classic string of pearls about her neck. But still, there was something more approachable, and a little sad about her today. Feeling a bit like an intruder he cleared his throat.

She looked up. Her glittering eyes met his, and for one moment suspended in time, the rest of the world disappeared—right along with his intellect and powers of speech. He wanted to help erase that sadness and those unshed tears from her blue-gray eyes. But for the life of him, Adam couldn’t say one word.

Then she focused on him. Eyes wide, startled and full of a fear he could see, but one she quickly tried to hide from him. Carefully, as if it were a ten-pound hunk of plastique with a hair-trigger detonator attached, she set the little book down and closed it cautiously.

Adam almost asked if something was wrong, if he could help. But he didn’t. He had his own problems and he thought his explosive relationship with his son
was probably enough of a problem for them to negotiate right then. Apparently she agreed.

“Come in,” she said, her expression controlled now. “I was glad to hear you’d called. I saw Mark yesterday. Do you want to tell me what happened, or do you want to hear what he thinks happened?” she went on.

He shrugged, a casual gesture he hoped hid his in securities at least a little. “I guess I blew it. I don’t have a clue how, but I did,” he admitted. Pride swallowed, he took a seat.

“Mark says he tried to tell you he felt stupid and embarrassed for what he did, but that you picked an argument with him about something unrelated.”

Instantly on the defensive, he said, “I don’t remember him saying anything about stupidity or embarrassment, and it wasn’t an unrelated topic. I’m probably going to cause more trouble for him by telling you this, but he did his homework during his in-school suspension.”

She frowned and went through the file on her desk. “I told you, I’m not here to make Mark’s transition difficult. Nothing you say goes past that door or is held against Mark.” She gathered a sheaf a papers into her hands. “Frankly, I only care that the assignments were done. You say he had time during the day to do those homework assignments as well as all this? That’s incredible. Normally this work should have taken long enough to keep him busy into evening, and then he should have had his homework to tackle. Mr.
Harper was surprised he’d finished all this by the end of the day. And now you’re telling me he did more?”

Adam’s stomach sank. Now he understood his mistake. “So rather than pick up on the fact that he’d finished all his assignments early, I corrected him for doing his homework, too.”

Alexandra Lexington leaned back in her chair. “Well, you did miss a good chance to praise him. But I’m afraid you missed more than that. Mark approached you with his feelings that night. The bad chair? That was his way of saying he felt foolish about what he’d done. That was an opening and—”

“And I missed it.” Adam raked a hand through his hair. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t take the correction the way he would have from Jerry. Jerry Beecham was his stepfather.”

But she was shaking her head again. “I’ve heard all about his stepfather from Mark. Maybe it would help if you knew Mark saw him as a father figure. He’d separated your roles in his life, you see. You were his fun-uncle figure. Dinners and ball games, trips to Disney, wilderness camping. Day-to-day discipline fell to your ex-wife and her husband, so that’s who Mark came to expect it from. From what I gather, he was able to accept it from them. The problem is that Mark is having trouble dealing with you as a father because he barely remembers you as one. You’ve been something else to him.”

Resentment toward Mallory and Jerry rose to the surface. Once again, as he’d learned after she’d betrayed him, Adam understood how fine a line it was
between love and hate. And he really didn’t need some stranger telling him about what he’d been denied all these years. “Well, now I’m more,” he snapped. “Besides, I’ve corrected Mark over the years without a problem. Until now, that is.”

“Those were probably in circumstances outside everyday life, and as an instructor, in the case of your camping trips.”

His spirits at a low ebb, Adam said what he was thinking. “I don’t need you to tell me that I haven’t been able to be a father since Mallory left.”

She blinked at his tone and her back stiffened, but she continued on. “I don’t think it’s as black and white as you seem to think, and it isn’t only about you. Mark has had to fit you in somewhere in his mind and heart all these years. You became his hero, which isn’t necessarily a good thing right now.”

Now that sounded just plain wrong! “You think it’s bad that my son looks up to me? From where I’m sitting, that’s the only good news I’ve had. I came here hoping you could help, but I just don’t see where you’re coming from. How can that be bad?”

“It’s possible that with you two living together, he now sees that you have faults, and he’s angry about it. You’ve toppled off your pedestal. Worse, he seems to think it’s partly his fault. I sense he regrets your decision to resign your commission. I think he blames himself, since you did it to be a full-time father to him.”

Adam shook his head. “You don’t understand. He’s angry, but not about my faults. Mark was living
with his mother’s sister after the accident that killed his mother and Jerry. He stayed there till I could get stateside. Mark wanted to stay with her indefinitely. That’s Mark’s problem. He didn’t get his way. I never gave up my right to be his father—and I won’t. But it’s not what he wants. And
that’s
why he’s angry.”

“Lieutenant Commander, I’m speculating here. And you must be, too. Mark is so conflicted right now, I’m not sure
Mark
knows why he’s angry or what he wants.”

“So what’s so wrong with me telling him where we’re going to live? I refuse to feel guilty for that any longer. It’s my job as a parent to see that Mark has the right environment, and it’s my right as a parent to take my son where I’ve decided to live.”

She huffed out an impatient breath. “I never said otherwise. Parents move their children all over for flimsier reasons than wanting to return to their hometown. I was only trying to give you some perspective on Mark’s feelings. And to explain that you need to listen for little openings and to take advantage of them if you want to have a good relationship with him. Grab on and use any opportunity to explore his feelings and yours. Try to guide, rather than order the way you did with your men, and notice the moments when he’s begging for praise, even though he doesn’t seem to be. I’m not saying it’s easy. But the more important accomplishments in life rarely are.”

“A warning would have been helpful,” Adam said tersely. “If I’d known he was trying to express feelings, I might have seen what he was getting at. I was
choking down dinner and all of a sudden I was in the middle of a minefield with him. I want a warning in the future if you challenge Mark to talk to me about something. As for all this other stuff you said, I’ll have to think about it.”

“Fine, but I’d like this talk between us kept confidential for now,” she said.

He sat back, crossing his ankle over his knee. “If you’re so sure of all this, why don’t you want him to know I was here? I’d think knowing I’m concerned for him would help our relationship.”

“If you remember, I said I’m speculating—using those clues I mentioned that Mark is casting out. I’m certainly not trying to throw up roadblocks to your relationship. I just don’t want him thinking we’ve been talking about him behind his back.”

“Even though we are and he’s doing the same thing to me?” Adam asked, annoyed again rather than curious.

She sighed in a way that said she thought he was an idiot. About emotional stuff, he admitted to himself, he probably was.

“Mark might not confide in me if he thinks we’re in cahoots, Lieutenant Commander. Don’t you want him to have someone to talk to?”

This whole thing was just a little much. Was he supposed to be grateful to this woman for butting into his relationship with Mark? He was willing to take advice, but not to have her as a third party in the conflict between himself and Mark. “He’s my son. I want him to talk to
me.”

She smiled, but it was more of a sarcastic smirk. “But he tried that. Didn’t he?”

“Look, you weren’t there. Talking about abstract kindergartners having to sit in a bad chair was a pretty darn obscure way for Mark to tell me he felt foolish for his show of rebellion. While you’re casting blame, ask yourself why the kid can’t express his feelings better than this. And remember, I’m the one who wasn’t allowed to be a parent all these years. Maybe Mallory and Jerry weren’t the paragons of parenthood everyone has made of them.”