Baby, Come Home (15 page)

23

S
itting in the construction office waiting for the phone to ring, Amy couldn’t stop looking back and forth between father and son. Not only did they look alike, but they had the same mannerisms, she realized. They quirked their eyebrows the same and liked to steeple their hands.

And at the moment, they were easy to observe—they were both ignoring her.

“Thank you for the use of the office,” she offered to Kendall. “Hopefully we won’t have to wait much longer for Bertram to get back to us.”

He nodded. “No problem. I just want to get this wrapped up so we can get back to work.”

“I want that, as well,” she said mildly.

“What do you think they’ll do to me?” Tony asked, chewing on his fingernails.

“That’s not a very nice habit,” Kendall commented.

Tony’s face turned red and he put his hand down.

Amy shot Kendall a pointed look. “Your father knows,” she said to Tony, “because he used to bite his nails, too.” Then she reached over to squeeze his hand. “What do you think should happen to you, sweetie?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I already said I was sorry.”

“Sometimes sorry isn’t good enough,” Kendall said. “You heard the attorney—you caused a lot of damage. The school had to be closed for repairs.”

“It wasn’t just me,” he mumbled.

“We’ve already been over this,” Amy reminded him. “It doesn’t matter who else was involved. I asked you what you think should happen to you. What would be fair?”

“They should’ve made
you
do the repairs,” Kendall offered.

“I asked Tony,” Amy said, keeping her tone light.

“I don’t want to go to jail,” Tony said. He lifted his hand to bite his nails again, then darted a look at Kendall and put it back down.

“Let’s just wait to see what the attorney is able to work out,” Amy said. “No matter what happens, you can deal with it.”

He gave her a grateful look and she winked at him.

Kendall cleared his throat, clearly disapproving of the way she was handling things.

The phone rang and when she saw it was the attorney’s office, she put the call on speaker. “Hello, Mr. Bertram, this is Amy Bradshaw. Tony is with me.” She glanced up and remembered they weren’t alone. “Oh, and…Tony’s father Kendall Armstrong, is joining us, too.”

She supposed she was going to have to get used to saying that.

“Hello, all,” Bertram said, his voice brusque and efficient. “Okay, here’s the situation. The school is being cooperative because they understand the precarious position they’re in with leaving young Tony unsupervised. I’ve spoken with the dean of students and he agreed to speak to the District Attorney’s office on Tony’s behalf because he was a model student for the, um…” Papers rattled. “For the two weeks he attended. If Tony agrees to turn in the names of the other boys who were with him, he might be able to get off with time served at the school.”

“And if he doesn’t give up the names?” Kendall asked.

“Well, I was at least able to get the fine down to five thousand dollars. And he wouldn’t have to go back to the school.”

“He’ll pay the fine,” Kendall announced.

Amy looked up. “Mr. Bertram, can I put you hold for a moment?”

“Of course.”

She hit the button to exclude the man from overhearing their conversation. “Kendall, I do okay in my job, but I don’t have that kind of cash lying around. The attorney’s fees and the tuition at the school already set me back some.”

“I’ll pay it,” he said.

Tony looked at her, his expression hopeful. She knew what her son was thinking—that this having a dad thing wasn’t so bad, if he was going to be generous.

“And you’ll work it off,” Kendall said to Tony.

Tony frowned. “How?”

“However I want you to. Until the covered bridge is built, you’ll go to school here and work for me after school and on weekends.”

Tony looked suspicious. “But if I give them the names of the other boys, we don’t have to pay anything, and I don’t have to work for you.”

“Trust me, son. If you take the easy way out, you’ll be paying for it the rest of your life.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me ‘son.’”

Amy bit down on her tongue.

Kendall looked at her. “Some help here?”

“It’s Tony’s future, Tony’s decision.”

“Like the decision he made to vandalize a school? We’re his parents, this is our decision.”

Amy tried to telegraph to Kendall that if left to his own devices, Tony usually did the right thing. She’d raised him that way. But when challenged, he did what most of the Armstrong men did—push back. Amy chewed on her lip, playing out the scenario Kendall described. Maybe it would be the best way for father and son to get to know each other, to hash things through.

“Okay,” she said, looking at Kendall. “We’ll do it your way.”

Tony’s head come up. “You’re siding with him?”

“We both want what’s best for you,” she said carefully. “And this way, you won’t have to go back to that school. Besides, I still haven’t forgotten the whole hitchhiking thing.”

He scowled. She could feel his frustration. Up came the hand so he could chew on his nails. “Whatever,” he mumbled.

Kendall looked at her and gave a curt nod, his body language easing.

Amy hit the button on the phone to resume the call. “Mr. Bertram, we’ve decided—all of us—that Tony will be paying the fine.”

“Okay, I’ll draw up the papers and fax them to you there to sign.”

“Thank you,” she said, then disconnected the call.

Anger and distrust vibrated in the room between father and son.

“Now what?” Tony asked Kendall. “I’m your slave?”

“Watch the attitude,” Kendall said. “A thank-you would be nice.”

Tony gave him a look saying that was never going to happen.

“Thank you, Kendall,” Amy said, then looked at Tony. “Now what happens is we get you enrolled in school here for this quarter. I’ll finish the covered bridge and you’ll finish school about the same time.”

“Then we’ll go home?” Tony asked.

She glanced up at Kendall. His expression was expectant. She looked back to Tony. “Yes…then we’ll go home.”

24

“T
his is going to make a wicked elapsed time video for the website,” Betsy said of the covered bridge work site.

Amy nodded, understanding only about half of what the girl said. She had shown up every day after school to document the erection of the stacked-stone piers, the unloading of the materials and the staging of the timber pieces as they’d be needed for assembly. Four days into the job, progress was slow, but steady.

Amy observed the young girl, so mature and creative. Her clothes were funky and unlike anything Amy would’ve worn in high school. “How old are you, Betsy?”

“Fifteen. Why?”

“You seem…older.”

The girl smiled. “Good.”

“Do you know my son, Tony? He enrolled in the school here earlier in the week.”

“Yeah, he’s a lot younger than me, though.”

“Yes, he’s twelve,” Amy said, smothering a smile.

Betsy rolled her eyes. “All the girls are gaga over him, they think he has dreamy eyes.”

Amy laughed. “Thank you, I think.”

The girl took a few pictures, then lowered the digital camera and looked at Amy warily. “There’s a rumor going around that Kendall Armstrong is his father.”

“Yes, Kendall is Tony’s father,” Amy said. It was getting easier to say, but still not so easy to grapple with. She and Kendall were being civil, but just barely. When he looked at her, his eyes were so accusatory, it chilled her to the bone.

“That’s cool,” the girl said simply, then went back to taking pictures.

The younger generation were very matter-of-fact about dealing with pieces and parts of broken and melded families, Amy mused. The casualness was a bit unsettling, but reflected reality. She still couldn’t tell how Tony was feeling about the turn of events—he breezed over concerns she voiced and gave her monosyllabic answers to questions. Mostly he kept to himself or played video games in the great room. Today Kendall was picking him up from school and bringing him here for his first “job” to work off the fine. They had agreed that Kendall would choose and supervise the chores.

She hoped she didn’t regret that decision.

“Hey, are you wearing your mother’s necklace?” Betsy asked.

Amy’s hand went to her bare neck. “Not at the moment. I don’t want to lose it.” True, but disingenuous, she admitted to herself. She hadn’t worn it in days. In fact, she’d acquired an aversion to it because it had started to represent a connection to this town.

At the moment her emotions were so confusing, she was grateful for the covered-bridge project. The steadfastness of building materials, the certainty of structural load and force, gave her something to focus on. There were a thousand details to handle with the foremen, and two crews of men to manage. It kept her mind occupied for the most part, but her thoughts still strayed to the two men in her life throughout the workday, and how they both managed to push her buttons.

Kendall’s black pickup pulled onto the site. Tony sat in the passenger side. As inconspicuously as possible, Amy watched to see how they interacted. They both climbed out and scanned for her. Knowing she looked like any other worker in her hard hat, she lifted her hand. They moved in her direction.

She noticed Tony was wearing sturdy work clothes—Kendall must have bought them for him at the General Store. Her son looked awkward and unsure of himself. Kendall, on the other hand, looked like a tower of power in work-worn jeans and a long-sleeve black thermal shirt that hugged his wide shoulders.

It would be hard, she realized suddenly, to find out your father was a mountain of man with more strength in his hands than most men had in their entire arm. She had no doubt that Tony’s physique would be the same someday, but for now, his pre-adolescent body looked scrawny standing next to his father.

His father. As they approached, Amy marveled over the sheer biology, the fact that she and Kendall had made this whole other person. And her midsection tightened with memories of how they’d done it.

“Hello,” she called when they were close enough. She resisted hugging Tony, part of her new effort to allow him to look grown up around his father.

“Hey,” he said simply, his eyes darting around the site…and stopping on Betsy, who was still taking pictures.

Amy smiled. “Tony, this is Betsy Hahn. She goes to your school.”

“Duh, everyone here goes to the same school,” he said.

Amy opened her mouth to reprimand him for being rude but Kendall beat her to it.

“Be nice,” he said.

“Hi,” Betsy said with a tight smile. “I’m from Broadway, too.”

“Then you know how boring it is here,” Tony said with a laugh, his voice condemning.

“I don’t think it’s boring,” she said, giving him a look as if he didn’t know anything.

“There’s nothing to
do
here,” he said.

Kendall put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s about to change. See that pile of construction debris? I want you to sort through it. Put anything that will burn in one pile, and throw everything else in that green Dumpster.

Tony took in the sprawling pile that was taller than him. “Tonight?”

“Before you leave.”

Tony looked at her and pleaded with his eyes for her to intervene. Instead, she gave him a wink. “Think of all the muscles you’ll build.”

Kendall extended a pair of suede work gloves. “You’ll need these.”

Tony frowned. “No, I don’t.” He trudged toward the pile, his body language sullen.

“Suit yourself,” Kendall called after him.

Amy looked at Kendall. “You could have one of the men move that pile with a back-hoe in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, I could,” he agreed.

“I’m not sure I like the idea of you working my son just for the hell of it.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Then think of it as me working
my
son just for the hell of it. The boy needs to get out from behind the computer and those video games.”

“He’s not a couch potato. He played soccer at his regular school.”

“Not baseball?”

Kendall had played baseball in high school. Between them, the Armstrong boys had dominated football, basketball, baseball and wrestling. Soccer hadn’t yet made it to the North Georgia mountains in large numbers.

“I think he has a
fantasy
baseball team,” she offered.

He frowned. “I’m supposed to know what that is?”

“No, but you can ask him,” she said mildly.

“He doesn’t seem to use any words. All he does is grunt.”

She gave a little laugh. “It takes a while to learn to interpret his grunts.”

He gave her a pointed look. “Except I don’t have much time, do I?”

Amy couldn’t think of anything to make him feel better, so she remained silent.

Kendall sighed noisily, then his shoulders softened, obviously trying a new tack. “I was thinking about a family dinner tonight.”

Family
. “The three of us?”

“Actually, I’d like for Tony to get to know Porter and Marcus, you know, just us men. I thought we’d do steaks at the bunkhouse…if that’s okay.” Ah,
Kendall’s
family. Amy tried to hide her disappointment at the slight, as well as her reservations about Tony being pulled more deeply into the Armstrong fold. They were good people, but she didn’t want to lose her son to them. “What time do you want to pick him up?”

“I’ll just take him from here when he finishes,” Kendall said, “and I’ll bring him back to the boardinghouse after dinner.”

“Just remember it’s a school night,” Amy said. “I like for him to be in bed by ten.”

“When he’s not hitchhiking?” Kendall asked drily.

That stung.

“Have fun,” she managed to say before turning back to her work, blinking back hot tears.

25

K
endall stood in front of his truck in the headlights that shone over the dwindling pile of debris where Tony still labored. The sun had set an hour ago. Kendall didn’t particularly enjoy working the boy so hard, but he knew it was good for him.

Tony stood and wiped his forehead. “I think that’s all of it.”

“Good,” Kendall called, proud that he’d finished. “I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

Tony walked toward the truck, glaring. “I’m too tired to eat.”

“You’ll sleep good tonight.” Kendall opened the driver’s-side door and climbed in. “I told your mother you and I would have dinner at the bunkhouse tonight with my brothers. You can shower there.”

Tony climbed in the passenger side, moving slowly. “I don’t have my soap and stuff.”

“It’s provided. Are you shaving yet?”

Tony wiped a dirty hand over his jaw. “No.”

Kendall bit back a smile. “It won’t be long.”

On the way to the bunkhouse, Tony inspected his hands in the dark. Kendall could tell they were blistered. The boy would learn. He remembered a similar lesson when he was about Tony’s age…over a similar junk pile.

Emotion tugged at his heart. His father would be so pleased to see Tony, to have a namesake, to know the Armstrong lineage would continue. As soon as he changed the boy’s name, he thought wryly. Kendall hadn’t yet called his mother. He knew Emily Armstrong would pelt him with questions he couldn’t yet answer about the boy, and about Amy.

Another tug. Amy Bradshaw would be the death of him. At times he was so angry with her over denying him knowledge of his son that he felt dangerously close to losing control. Her betrayal had cut deeper than anything he’d ever experienced. Even now, when he looked at Tony, he was bereft over all the moments in the boy’s life he’d missed out on, all the moments Tony had wondered about a father who wasn’t around.

“What’s the bunkhouse?” Tony asked.

“It’s where the men stay.”

“Why do the men and women live separately here?”

Kendall laughed. “Good question. Logistics, I suppose. When my brothers and I started rebuilding the town, we signed on two hundred and fifty men to work for us. But we realized sooner or later we’d have to have some women, or the men weren’t going to stay.”

Tony grinned for the first time and it lifted Kendall’s heart.

“So we advertised for single women, and we built the boardinghouse for them to stay in.”

“And their kids,” Tony added.

“Their kids came later because we didn’t have a school yet, but yes. Sooner or later as couples decide to marry and live together, people will start building their own homes outside of the downtown area. That’s how a community grows.”

“So you grew up here?”

“Right. Then I went into the Air Force and traveled around the world.”

“Were you a pilot?”

Kendall laughed. “No. I’m an engineer.”

“Like my mom.”

“Yep.”

“She’s good at her job,” Tony offered.

“She’s a smart lady when it comes to her job,” Kendall agreed.

“She’s a good mom, too,” Tony blurted, his voice defiant.

“I’m sure she is,” Kendall said carefully. Something stirred deep within him to hear his son defend his mother. It was just the kind of thing he would’ve taught Tony to do, even though he had problems with some of Amy’s decisions.

He pulled the truck up to the bunkhouse. “I’ll grab a change of clothes. You can put on the same clothes you wore to school today. Over there’s the shower house. I’ll meet you inside.”

Tony picked up his backpack and headed toward the long block building that housed the showers. Kendall stopped in the bunkhouse to get what he needed from a foot locker, then stopped outside at the grill area to tell Porter and Marcus they’d be out in a few minutes.

At the shower house, Tony waited for him, his dirty face stoic. “There’s men in there already.”

It dawned on Kendall that Tony had never taken a locker-room shower. He thought back to when he was Tony’s age and tried to remember if he’d been modest. He hadn’t, but then, he’d grown up with two brothers. “You can shower in your underwear if you want.”

Tony thought about it. “Do you?”

“Nope.” Kendall walked into the locker area, grabbed a towel and opened a locker, depositing his change of clothes inside. Then he began to undress, noticing that Tony was copying his movements. He whistled under his breath throughout, then wrapped a towel around his waist and slipped his feet into shower shoes. He pulled out an extra pair and dropped them at Tony’s feet. “Wear these.”

Tony pushed his feet into the flip flops, then followed Kendall to the showers. A dozen men were showering, tossing laughter back and forth.

“Hey, guys,” Kendall said, throwing up his hand.

“Kendall, who’s the little man?” one of the workers yelled.

“This is my son, Tony.” He realized it was the first time he’d said those words.

“Hiya, Tony!” the guys chorused.

Tony waved self-consciously.

Kendall casually removed his towel and hung it on a hook, then turned on one of the many shower heads coming out of the wall. Tony did the same, albeit more slowly. Kendall squirted soap out of the dispenser and lathered up, knowing his son was probably studying his body. It was an age-old lesson that he was happy to pass down. He gave Tony his privacy, joked a couple of times with the men to let his son know he didn’t need to be embarrassed.

Then he turned off the shower and retrieved the towel, dried off and wrapped it around his waist again.

“That was fast,” Tony said, trying to keep up.

“We try to conserve water here,” Kendall said. “Sweetness is a green community.”

“That’s why there are recycling signs everywhere at school?”

“Right.”

“Someone said there are big bins of worms by the cafeteria.”

Kendall smiled. “Those are compost bins…and yes, we use mealworms. I’ll show you sometime.”

He walked to a sink, pulled out shaving cream and lathered up his beard, then pulled out a razor.

“You’re going to shave your beard?” Tony asked.

“I always shave for spring, might as well do it now.” He passed the shaving cream to Tony. “Do you want to try?”

Tony shrugged. “Okay.” He lathered up, too.

Kendall passed him a razor. “Do you know how?”

“Not really.”

“It’s tricky the first couple of times,” Kendall said, using slow, exaggerated strokes. “Don’t press too hard.”

“Ow!” Tony said, then grimaced at a thin line of blood that comingled with the shaving cream.

“I still cut myself, too,” Kendall said. “Keep going.”

They shaved in companionable silence. Again, Kendall was taken back to the bathroom lesson his dad had given him. How many special moments like that had been lost in his memory forever because he hadn’t been around his own son to trigger them? His anger toward Amy resurged to the surface.

“You have a lot of muscles,” Tony said absently.

Kendall smiled. “So will you.”

“Is that why my mom liked you, because you had muscles?”

Kendall’s smile faded a bit. “You’ll have to ask her.”

“She won’t talk about you.”

His hand slipped and he cut himself. “See, I told you I still cut myself,” Kendall said with a rueful laugh. “Let’s wrap this up—Porter and Marcus are waiting.”

They dressed in the locker room, then Kendall said, “Let me see those hands.”

Tony worked his mouth, then stuck them out. Bright red blisters and broken skin covered his palms and the undersides of his fingers.

“Yeah, I’ve been there,” Kendall said, turning over his own calloused hands. He handed Tony a tube of antibiotic ointment. “This will make them feel better and heal faster.”

Tony opened the tube and squeezed some on his fingers, then handed it back.

“Keep it,” Kendall said. “You’re going to need it.” He closed the locker door. “Got your dirty clothes?”

Tony patted his backpack.

“Towels go over there,” Kendall said, pointing, then he smiled. “And now, dinner. Are you hungry?”

Tony nodded. “Thirsty, too.”

“Then let’s go.”

They walked in the darkness, the ground illuminated only by a three-quarter moon. Kendall looked over at Tony, marveling that he and Amy had created this person. He was overwhelmed by the urge to protect him and was scared anew at the thought of Tony hitchhiking on the interstate between Michigan and Georgia. He had a new appreciation for the sleepless nights he and his brothers must have caused his parents.

“What’s it like having brothers?” Tony asked.

Another thing that Amy had deprived Tony of, Kendall thought glumly—the chance to have siblings. “Having brothers is the best,” Kendall said. “Just don’t tell them I said that.”

Tony grinned.

“There they are,” Porter said, waving from behind one of the many grills set up for the men to use if they were so inclined. Marcus stood next to him, both of them wearing heavy flannel shirts and drinking cans of soda.

“Tony, the ugly guy on the left is your uncle Porter,” Kendall said. “And the uglier guy on the right is your uncle Marcus—you met him the other day. Guys, this is Anthony Alton Bradshaw. He goes by Tony.”

“Hey, Tony.”

“Hello, Tony.”

“Hi,” he said, then stepped forward to offer his hand to each of them.

Kendall’s chest swelled, conceding that Amy had taught the boy manners.

“Sorry, I got ointment on my hands,” Tony mumbled.

“That’s okay,” Porter said. “We can always use some, too.”

“Good to see you again, Tony,” Marcus said.

Over the boy’s head, Kendall met his brothers’ eyes and they gave him imperceptible nods of approval—and envy—that left Kendall shaken…and flushed with pride.

“I understand you put in a full day at school, then worked all evening,” Porter said. “You must be starved. Steak and baked potato okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, his eyes alight.

His brothers, especially Porter, had an ease with Tony that Kendall didn’t, probably because the relationship was simpler, with no expectations. Kendall observed as Tony interacted and opened up with his brothers about sports and movies, enjoying the banter.

At one point he glanced at his watch and realized with dismay it was already ten o’clock.

Then Tony laughed at something Porter said, and Kendall dropped his arm. He had missed out on too much of his son’s life. No way was he going to be deprived of this evening.

It was close to eleven-thirty when he drove Tony back to the boardinghouse. Tony was dead on his feet. Kendall walked him to his room that was just a couple of doors down from Amy’s. He shepherded him inside with a good-night, then tapped on Amy’s door.

She answered, dressed in the gown and robe he remembered so well from a few days ago. Her curly red hair was coiled up and held with a clip, her face devoid of makeup and naturally pretty. All the anger he’d fostered toward her over the evening disintegrated. He felt the pull of her body on his and had the overwhelming urge to kiss her.

“You’re still up,” he said unnecessarily.

“I was hoping to say good-night to Tony.”

“I just dropped him off in his room. I’m sure he’s sound asleep already.”

“Okay, thanks.” She squinted. “You shaved your beard and mustache.”

He stroked his clean chin. “Like it?”

“It’s late, Kendall.” She started to close the door.

“I’m sorry I brought him home late. We lost track of time.”

“I understand.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promised.

She nodded. “It’s okay, really. I’m going to have to learn to share him for a while.”

“For a while?” he asked, his anger reigniting. “How about for the rest of his life?”

She touched her forehead. “I’m tired, I misspoke.”

Through the open door, the bed they had occupied for the better part of three days mocked him. All of those private moments when Amy could’ve told him about his son, could’ve prepared him, could’ve explained why she’d kept their child a secret. But what made him most angry was, despite her cruel deceit, he still wanted to press her down in those sheets and make love to her until dawn.

“Kendall, was there something else you wanted?”

He snapped out of his reverie. “No. Good night.”

Kendall turned and strode away, his entire body vibrating with frustration. He needed to persuade Amy to stay in Sweetness so he could be with his son. But he wasn’t sure he wanted her to stay if they couldn’t be together.