Midnight Promises (30 page)

“She was way more than a neighbor,” Karen said. “If it hadn’t been for her and you back then, I really don’t know what I would have done.”

Helen nodded, not bothering to deny her own role in keeping Karen’s world from spinning out of control. “Exactly,” she said. “That’s why I’m asking if you’re okay.”

“To be honest, I’m scared to death,” Karen said. “You know what a lifeline she’s been for me. The thought that she’s in failing health has really shaken me.” She sat up a little straighter and drew on some reserve of strength she hadn’t been aware she possessed. “I guess it’s my turn to return the favor.”

“And we’re here for backup anytime you need it,” Helen promised. “Remember that. Alzheimer’s is not an easy thing to face, not for the person who might have it, not for their friends or caregivers.”

“I feel as if I’ve spent most of my adult life needing backup,” Karen said. “Frances, you, even Elliott.”

“That’s what friends and family are for,” Helen said. “Don’t ever forget that. You’ll have your chance to be there for one of us. It’s the way life works.”

“I guess it still comes as such a huge surprise,” Karen admitted. “For so many years I felt not only terribly alone, but incapable of helping myself, much less anyone else.”

Helen reached for her hand. “And now you’re strong.”

Karen smiled. “And now I’m strong,” she echoed, savoring the knowledge.

* * *

Elliott had managed to carve out an hour or two the past few Saturdays to go with Mack to football practice. It hadn’t been easy, but he knew if he wasn’t on the scene and anything happened, he’d never hear the end of it. Karen continued to be unhappy about the fact that he’d signed Mack up. Though she was resigned to letting him play, she still refused to come to the games.

“You know I’ll be one of those moms who runs onto the field and tries to dry his tears or kiss his boo-boos. I’ll embarrass Mack to death,” she’d explained stubbornly.

Though Elliott hadn’t entirely bought her reason, he’d let it go.

Under coaching from Ronnie, Cal and Travis, the kids Mack’s age were learning the fundamentals, but the rules were in a constant state of flux, and it was never entirely certain if the players would remember which goal line they were supposed to run toward.

Though the men stringently enforced that it was touch football, there were inevitably a few misplaced tackles that left cuts and bruises. Thankfully, so far Mack hadn’t been among the victims.

Today, however, it seemed Elliott’s good luck had just run out. He spotted a kid who was ten pounds heavier than Mack and several inches taller heading straight for Mack as he ran toward the goal line clutching the football. When a touch would have stopped the run, the kid aimed directly for Mack’s stomach instead, knocking the breath out of him as they both tumbled to the ground.

Elliott was already on the field as Mack staggered to his feet. Expecting tears, he was stunned to see Mack take a swing at the offending player, catching him squarely in the jaw. It wasn’t as if he had much force behind the punch, but it definitely must have stung. The kid started screaming as if he’d been mortally wounded.

“You’re not supposed to tackle,” Mack shouted at him as the other dad arrived just in time to witness the punch.

“You hit me!” the kid screamed, turning toward his father, who looked apoplectic.

“That boy needs to be thrown off the team,” the father shouted at Ronnie, who’d left the other kids under Cal’s care and was headed down the field to join them.

“Hold on,” Elliott said to the father. “It was your kid who tackled him. My boy was just defending himself.”

Ronnie arrived just then and tried to calm things down. “Okay, both boys were out of line,” he said firmly. “They’re suspended for the rest of the game.”

“But that’s not fair,” Mack protested.

Elliott was inclined to agree, but he couldn’t very well condone the punch Mack had thrown, either. Nor was he about to question Ronnie’s authority.

“You know the rules,” Elliott said quietly to Mack, a hand on his shoulder.

“You need to teach your kid sportsmanship,” the other man said, still glowering.

Elliott had to rein in his temper. Fortunately Ronnie stepped in.

“You need to do the same, Dwight. This whole incident started because your son tackled Mack. It’s not the first time he’s deliberately tackled another player, either. Once more and he’s out. Period.”

“We’ll make it easy, then,” the man said defiantly. “I’ll yank him now. This game is just for a bunch of sissies.”

Elliott stared at him incredulously. “They’re seven years old.” He realized then that there was no point in engaging the man. He was clearly irrational.

But as he and Mack started to walk away, the man stepped in front of him, clearly not ready to concede the battle.

“I’m a little surprised at you, backing down the way you just did,” he said snidely. “I thought all you Latino guys think you’re hot stuff.”

Evidence of prejudice of any kind in Serenity was rare, but it did happen. Elliott wanted to level the man on the spot, but the tiny part of his brain that wasn’t engulfed in a red haze of fury held him back. He had to set an example for Mack. He could not allow this argument with an idiot to escalate.

“You don’t want to go there,” he said quietly.

“Actually I do,” the man said belligerently. “You sneak over the border, live here illegally, steal jobs from honest Americans and then think you can teach your kids to bully other kids.” He glanced at Mack. “Is he even your kid? Bet you didn’t know your wife or girlfriend or whatever was stepping out on you, did you?”

Elliott had had enough. He was about to pop the guy in the jaw when Ronnie stepped squarely between them. “Dwight, go home,” he said in a firm undertone. “It’s not even nine in the morning and you’re obviously drunk. You’re embarrassing yourself and your son. Go home.”

After an instant’s hesitation, Dwight muttered an expletive, then turned and walked away, his kid trotting along behind him, still wailing and rubbing his jaw.

Ronnie shook his head as Dwight left, then turned to Elliott. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Elliott said. “I could have defused the situation much sooner by walking away.”

“It’s hard to walk away from someone who’s spoiling for a fight and will say or do anything to get what they want. Dwight’s been out of work for a year now. It doesn’t excuse anything he said or did, but it might give you some perspective.”

Elliott nodded. “Thanks for telling me that. I’d like to say it makes what happened less personal, but it doesn’t.”

Ronnie gave his shoulder a squeeze, then went back to the game. Elliott forced a smile for Mack, who looked shaken by the whole incident.

“I think we need ice cream, buddy. What do you think?”

“Ice cream is good,” Mack said, grinning. “Can I have a banana split?”

Elliott chuckled, knowing his eyes were considerably bigger than his stomach. “How about we share one?”

“Yay!” Mack said eagerly.

But even though the morning ended on a better note, Elliott couldn’t shake Dwight’s words. It wasn’t so much the ethnic slurs that bothered him. He’d been born and raised right here in Serenity, after all. It was the slam that Mack wasn’t his. It was just one more incident to remind him that he had only the loosest possible claim to the child he thought of as his son.

* * *

Karen had heard about the incident at the ball field by midmorning, but it was her night to work late at Sullivan’s, so it was after eleven when she finally got home. Elliott was already in bed. He’d left a light on in the living room for her and a night-light glowing in the hallway for the kids.

After a quick peek to make sure Daisy and Mack were asleep, and a good-night kiss for each of them, she showered to rid herself of the scents that clung after a day in the restaurant kitchen. She pulled on one of Elliott’s T-shirts, then crawled into bed beside him, hoping not to disturb his sleep.

He rolled over, though, and reached for her.

“I thought I heard you come in,” he murmured sleepily, nuzzling her neck.

“Sorry. I was trying not to wake you.”

In the faint light of the moon, she could see the smile on his lips.

“You can wake me anytime,
querida.
”

She knew that things could go any one of several ways now. With the right signal, they could be making love. With a question or two, they could be having one of the late-night talks that brought them each up to date on their days. Or she could kiss his cheek, murmur, “Good night,” and Elliott would fall straight back into a sound sleep.

Though she was exhausted, the first option held plenty of allure, but before she could run a hand over his bare hip or along his solid abs, he pulled himself into a sitting position with pillows at his back.

“We should talk about something that happened today,” he told her.

“I heard Mack got into a fight on the football field,” she said, preempting his news. She knew he was going to feel guilty about Mack’s slight injury after the production she’d made about him playing football. “He didn’t look any the worse for wear when I checked on him just now, and Ronnie said he gave as good as he got.” She frowned. “Not that I condone fighting.”

“The incident was nothing,” Elliott said, waving it off as if it were of no consequence. “It was what happened after that’s on my mind.”

Karen hadn’t been aware of anything that had happened after. “What do you mean?”

He frowned. “Ronnie didn’t mention anything?”

“Not to me,” she said.

“The father of this other boy—”

“Dwight Millhouse,” she said, cutting him off. “I know him. He’s having a tough time finding a job, and he’s spending way too much of his time off drinking instead of looking for work.”

Elliott nodded. “Okay, I’m trying to allow for that, for him being out of work and for him being drunk, but he said some things.”

Karen regarded him curiously. “What kind of things?”

“Some were about me being Latino,” he began.

She stared at him incredulously. “You’re kidding me! If I’d been there, I’d have slugged him myself.”

Elliott smiled. “I’m sorry you weren’t there to stand up for me, then,” he said, clearly amused. “But that’s not important. He made a comment about Mack not being my son. I know he has no idea of our situation and he was just spouting off whatever vile thing he could think of, but it reminded me that we need to make a decision about whether or not you’re going to allow me to adopt Daisy and Mack. I feel as if we’re all in limbo.”

Karen, who had been propped up on her side to listen, fell back against the pillows and closed her eyes. She’d known they’d get back to this eventually, but she was no more certain now than she had been before about the right thing to do.