Just Beginning (22 page)

A gracious person would’ve brushed off Alex’s temper tantrum, but Jenny thought she needed to be called out on it.

Alex shifted her weight from one foot to the other as a blush pinkened her cheeks. “Yeah, I’m sorry I was rude to you earlier. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you because Greg was flirting with you.”

“I didn’t do or say—”

“I know. I heard.” She shrugged. “He’s a flirt.”

“I can’t do the Electric Slide to rap.”

“The guys are gone. We can put country on.”

“Okay, then.” Jenny smiled and looped an arm around Alex’s waist, before turning back to Gabe. “Coming?”

“You go on. Line dancing’s not really my thing.”

Jenny returned to the kitchen, picked up her water bottle, and headed upstairs to work. Karen assigned her to do a series of articles on John Spears and his legacy—one a week. At first, it seemed like a fun assignment and Jenny’d found the history fascinating. But now that she was past the first few introductory articles and needed to get a more in-depth take on what it was like to be in the foster care system, she was stuck.

She’d completed her interviews and had all the material she needed, but now it was time to dig in and get personal, yet remain respectful and productive. This piece had to have the exact right tone. Jenny combed through the history again, hoping for inspiration.

John Spears survived the Detroit foster care system decades ago and never forgot the gift he received. Upon his death, to his heirs’ surprise, he left most of his ten million-dollar estate in trust, with proviso that his favorite caseworker at Christ Child House oversee the building of an expansion facility to be called the Woodward House, which would create supervised independent living care for older teens.

He didn’t want other children to go through the terrifying experience he had of being cut loose from the system at eighteen. Living without a biological family was tough, but leaving his Christ Child family of seven years before he was ready had been traumatic.

John survived, got a scholarship to University of Michigan, then made his fortune. His bequest was motivated by the desire to help boys like him, those not fortunate enough to be adopted or integrated into a foster family. He wanted kids that were at CCH long-term to have the consistency of being able to stay nearby the staff and kids at CCH. The staff became the long-term kids’ family, and family was important.

Three hours and several false starts later, Jenny drove impatient fingers through her hair. She pursed her lips and shoved her laptop away. Scowling, she slouched deep in her chair. Nervous energy drove her from her seat, and she paced her office.

Nothin’
.

Her phone chimed with a text from Gabe. Jenny sighed. Quitting time. She headed downstairs to pack food. Maybe the fresh lake breeze would blow this fog from her brain and inspire her.

Ritz chased Canadian geese in the backyard while Jenny carried a cooler with snacks and drinks down to the boat. It was a perfect evening, not too hot and not too muggy. The bug zapper helped keep the mosquitoes at bay with a comforting
bzzt
as each insect flew toward the white light death. She stowed the food on board and returned to the dock. Sitting, she dangled her bare legs over the edge and leaned against a post.

Stop obsessing, Jen. Think about something else; you’re trying too hard. Think about…Michael’s tennis match. He and his partner played pretty well yesterday.

She had enjoyed cheering Michael on at his match. He’d spent the earlier part of his summer vacation attending an intensive camp that prepared him well for junior league competition. Learning to operate and care for their boat and jet skis, Alex’s graduation party, and work, kept Jenny busy without much time left over for Michael, and she’d missed him—more than she’d ever have thought.

Yeah, she’d had fun watching the match until one of the parents asked Jenny which one of the boys was her boyfriend. Dumb ass.

Jenny looked up as Steve approached. Dressed in a gray pinstripe suit and a solid blue tie that matched his bright eyes, he looked the part of the handsome lawyer. Steve wore the suits with natural nonchalance, but only because it was expected, not because he enjoyed the formal clothes.

“Sorry I’m late. Got stuck in traffic. Give me a few minutes to change, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Take your time. Gabe’s stuck at the clinic. He won’t be home for another half an hour.”

“You’re looking thoughtful. Everything okay?” Steve shrugged out of his suit coat and draped it over the dock post. He unbuttoned his white dress shirt cuffs, and with quick, efficient twists of the wrist, had both sleeves rolled halfway up tanned forearms.

He lowered himself to the wood, disregarding potential damage to his expensive slacks. Resting a forearm on one bent knee, he squinted into the fading sun. The breeze rustled his blond hair, giving him an attractive, mussed look.

All he needed was to loosen his tie, and he’d make a great cover shot for some men’s magazine.

“Contemplating life, I guess. It’s been a rotten week,” she confessed.

“It’s only Tuesday.”

She paused, raised her dark sunglasses, and gave him a long sideways look. “
Really
rotten.”

“Want to talk?”

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Jenny drew her windbreaker around her bare legs to shelter them against the cooling breeze. She squinted, then lowered her glasses against the bright setting sun. “Why does it seem like you
always
take three steps backward after you’re so excited about making two steps forward?”

“That’s a rhetorical question, right?”

“Everything’s become so complicated. I’ve made so many mistakes.”

“Haven’t we all?”

Jenny looked away, shaking her head. “Not like this. When I was younger, I kept taking steps backward. Very big steps backward.” She paused, wondering how much to trust him with.

“Then Gabe came along, and we fell in love. My mom thought it was a huge mistake because he’s older, and she thought I was too impulsive and immature for marriage and parenting. But I loved him, and marrying Gabe was my shot—my chance to fix everything and leap forward. Now it looks like she’s right. Not about Gabe,” she quickly amended. “He’s the best thing in my life.”

She looked out over the water, letting loving feelings of Gabe warm her. Her voice lowered, taking on a reverent tone. “He’s a wonderful person, compassionate and giving. As a husband, he’s perfect. Kind and sensitive, and funny, and sexy,” she trailed off, embarrassed about sounding like a teenager with a massive crush. She studied her white shoelaces. “Anyway, we’d be great if people would just let us.”

“Who has a problem with it?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Me.”

She smiled. Steve was sweet and a loyal friend. Maybe it was his nature, but Steve inspired people to talk about themselves
. You sensed he’d respect your privacy and keep your secret.

“Besides you?” Jenny asked. “Gabe’s uncle tried to trick me into drawing up a prenup, Alex was furious with me when she caught her crush flirting with me, and things with my mother are still tenuous.” She sighed. “It’s so slow gaining her confidence. I’m probably being overly sensitive, but, it’s exhausting keeping my guard up, feeling like I’m being judged constantly by everybody.”

“What about your dad?”

“Dad’s always there for me.” She struggled to find the words, yet needed to say them, as if admitting this great flaw was the first step in finding a solution. “At first when people mistook me for Gabe’s daughter, I laughed it off, thinking they’re just dumb.” She frowned and looked down. Voice lowered, she huskily confessed, “But it’s getting harder.”

“Why?”

“It happens
all
the time. Yesterday, at Michael’s tennis match…one of the moms asked which of the boys was my boyfriend.”

Steve turned away and choked back a chuckle.

“Go ahead. Laugh. Somebody might as well enjoy my humiliation.”

“So? You’re beautiful, and you look young. It’s hardly the end of the world.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not beautiful, but thank you. Last weekend when we took Alex and Ted out for dinner, I
got carded. Then bartender wanted to know what my ‘dad’ wanted to drink.”

“Uh...”

Steve’s speechlessness was comforting; he was beginning to get it. “Yeah. It’s just with Gabe’s kids there, it was embarrassing.” She frowned. “And that annoys me, too. Why should I care? I shouldn’t. But I do.”

“You care ’cause it hurts,” Steve explained. “It’s implied criticism.”

“So what? I’m a grown woman. Sticks and stones.” She smiled wryly, then shrugged and tilted her head.

“Yeah, well, names
do
hurt. What does Gabe think?”

“It doesn’t bother him, but he’s so easygoing about stuff like that.”

“Then don’t let it bother you. Just because you’re a young stepmother doesn’t mean you’re a bad one.”

She groaned and washed a hand over her face. “I’m bad, too. Instead of sending Alex to her mother to talk about sex and birth control, I gave her my opinion.” She told him all about the fiasco.

“Then I spent the past few days interviewing kids in the foster care system, and that rammed home exactly how shallow I am.”

Though their lives were light-years more challenging than Jenny’s, she’d known the pain of feeling like a failure, of being an outsider looking in, of wanting the chance to belong. She knew the panic of having to face an adult situation long before adulthood and experiencing that without the support of loving family would have been exponentially harder. Jenny had dented and bruised herself, but these kids had been damaged through no fault of their own.

“You’re hardly shallow, Jen.”

“Oh, comparatively, I am.” She nodded. “I have to do a piece on the foster care system and it’s killing me. These kids, abused and/or neglected by their families, are ripped away from everything they know to try and give them a better life, but their needs are so great and so complicated.”

She looked at Steve.

“There are
fourteen thousand
kids in Michigan foster care. That’s crazy. Through no fault of their own, their childhood has become a nightmare of loss, neglect, abuse, inconsistency, lack of love…” She scowled. “And not enough people care or help. These children are
not
disposable human beings. They deserve a second chance with a loving family. They deserve a mulligan.”

Jenny’d been granted several mulligans in her twenty-eight years, and look at her now. Happily married, good job, beautiful home, plenty of food to eat... She’d come a long way in the past few years, all due to forgiveness, love, patience and persistence—but mostly love. Gabe’s love.

“I agree. Those kids do deserve help, and your article will draw attention to their need. You should feel proud of that.”

“Hopefully. If I ever get it done.”

“You will. As for you…I wish I had some words of wisdom, but I don’t. Things may seem grim, but you’re lucky.” The breeze ruffled his hair as he looked out over the lake, then turned to her. “You and Gabe have a great relationship. All this other stuff is just stuff. But what you and Gabe have is special.”

Steve shook his head, smiling wistfully. “Those other things, the parenting thing, people doubting you—that’s their problem. Don’t let them project their issues onto you and ruin what you have with Gabe. Just be true to yourself and Gabe, and everything will work out.”

Just be true to yourself and Gabe
. If only Steve knew what a fraud she really was. Would he judge her too, or would he understand? As a lawyer, he had to be able to see both sides of an issue. Even if he didn’t agree with her decision, she doubted he’d ridicule her for it. Steve was pretty open-minded.

Jenny brushed the hair from her eyes, and stared at Steve. He was usually fun and entertaining. This prophetic, philosophic counsel was a new side to him. “That’s pretty sage advice, counselor. How’d you get to be so wise?”

He pursed his lips and looked at her, allowing her to see the pain shadowed in his honest blue eyes. “The hard way—by paying too much attention to what others thought.”

“When you stopped playing ball?”

He nodded. “Then, too.”

“It must have been tough, going from being idolized to a regular person overnight.” Jenny pushed her sunglasses up on the top of her head so she could better see his expression in the waning light.

“It’s an adjustment.” Steve stared at a rusty buoy bobbing gently in the pewter water. “I really loved playing ball, ya know? I knew it wouldn’t last forever, which was why I finished college.”

He plucked at his perfectly creased pant leg. “But somehow, I’d always expected the decision to quit would be mine. Being sidelined by an injury never occurred to me. I mean, it was baseball, not football or hockey. I worked out regularly with a trainer specifically to avoid this type of injury. I played ball for six years. Between spring training and the season, I’d never stayed in one place for more than a couple of months. With no time to prepare for retirement, I was a fish out of water.”

“So what happened? After you retired, did people hound you?”

He nodded. “At first I refused to talk about it. I tried to disappear, but reporters dogged me, digging. Once I’d been accepted to law school, I agreed to do this one article to satisfy curiosity.”

“And?”

“It was a disaster.” He sighed. “The reporter made a joke of it, implying that I’d bought my way in, insinuating that a jock could never cut it in law school and certainly not in a profession requiring no knowledge of sports. She intimated I wanted to become an entertainment attorney to use my contacts. She turned the piece into a joke.” He shook his head, as if still feeling the sting of embarrassment years later. “It was humiliating.”

“You didn’t insist on approving the piece first?”

He shook his head. “Dumb, huh?”

“But now you’re working for one of the most prestigious firms in the Detroit area.”

“And fighting to prove myself every day.” He grunted. “The truth is they took me in to use my name. They parade me out in front of important clients like cheap entertainment. I never get assigned the interesting cases.”