A Season for Family (15 page)

T
hanksgiving was Olivia's favorite holiday. Even after her mother's lingering death, even after her father fled like a coward, Olivia was still able to count her blessings on Thanksgiving. But today she was acutely aware that it was a season for family, something she lacked. She'd crafted one as best she could at Table of Hope, but it wasn't the same. She might never feel complete again.

Last night she'd worked beside her residents and the Biddles until her vision blurred with fatigue. The deep sleep that took over in the wee hours only lasted a brief time, and then Olivia jolted awake with a heavy feeling of dread for Heath. Her efforts to redial the phone he'd called from proved it was programmed to block the function. There was no record of Heath Stone with Austin directory assistance.

Where could he be?

The final hours of preparation Thursday morning and the service of the bountiful meal at noon were a haze in Olivia's blur of exhaustion. She was grateful that Peggy and Velma were too busy to be in her business. And the men were abuzz about a massive drug bust that had
taken place in a secluded bus parking lot near the zoo in the predawn hours.

The local news reported four men arrested and two fatalities; one a young male informant and the other a Hispanic man who was in the country illegally. The media seemed caught off guard, evidently misled by their sources to anticipate the activity in another part of town.

Olivia hated that something so foreign to Table of Hope had been the main topic of conversation during their first Thanksgiving dinner.

“Did you hear about that load of pills being confiscated last night?”

“Yeah, the reporter said the cops were originally investigating drugs being sold someplace around here but it turns out they were wrong.”

“Thank goodness. It's bad enough we can't count on a roof over our heads. We gotta worry about drug dealers, too?”

“The police suspect the guy who got killed was part of the
La Familia
cartel from Mexico. You remember they were behind that massive meth bust in Dallas a while back.”

The speculation droned on and on until it overshadowed the meal. If Olivia had the energy, she'd rant in protest. Instead, she used the last of her steam to help move folks toward the dessert buffet so cleanup could begin in the dining area.

The big room was filled to overflowing with clients enjoying hot drinks before the television as they waited for the day's football marathon to begin. Everyone was grateful to be spending the time indoors, away from the dangerous freeze that had settled over the city.

Olivia prepared to accept an obligatory slice of pumpkin pie from Peggy, who manned the dessert tables. The
woman had been a godsend, keeping the atmosphere cheerful and the day's activities on track with embarrassingly little involvement from Olivia.

“You okay, honey?” Peggy kept her voice low as she added a fat dollop of whipped cream to the pie. “Why don't you run up to your rooms and try to catch a nap while everybody's full and lazy? I'll bet every bunk in the place will have a sleeping body in it within the hour.”

“I can't rest until I know where he is, Peggy. Something was wrong when he called last night. I feel it in here.” Olivia pressed one hand against her chest. “Can't Bill do
something?
”

“Like what?”

“Get me a home address? I can't find any record for Heath Stone in Austin.”

Peggy's gaze fell away while she silently cut slices of pie and cake, lining them up on the edge of the table. Frown lines deepened in her face as she seemed to struggle with a response.

“Peggy, you know something, don't you?”

She still didn't answer.

Olivia grasped her friend by the wrist. Their eyes met. “Please,” she pleaded.

Peggy tugged her arm free and pulled off the gloves she wore for serving. “Give me a minute and I'll meet you upstairs.”

The minute stretched to fifteen as Olivia paced the short distance from one side of her apartment to the other. She yanked the door wide when footsteps approached. Peggy and Detective Biddle filed inside, faces blank of expression.

“Let's sit down,” he insisted. Peggy put an arm around Olivia's waist and guided her toward the small dinette. Biddle reached across the tile tabletop and rested his
big hand over his wife's. They exchanged a glance and Peggy nodded. “You have to tell her, Bill.”

“I'm going way outside of protocol by doing this.”

“Please,” Olivia begged. “I need to know what's happened to Heath.”

Biddle exhaled, seemed to make up his mind.

“Heath wasn't here doing community service. He's an undercover cop who works drugs.” Biddle spit out the truth.

Olivia's spine hit the back of the chair as if she'd been pushed. Hard. “What's that got to do with my shelter?”

“All our intelligence pointed to Table of Hope as a source of distribution. The Feds thought there was a chance your old man could be involved, laundering money in and out of the country. The only way to find out for sure was to put somebody inside.”

“Heath.”

“Yep.” Biddle nodded. “He figured out pretty early that you were clean.”

“He suspected
me?
” her voice rose.

“You can't blame the guy for doing his job. He put himself on the line last night and saved you a lot of heartache by drawing that bust away from here. Otherwise, the news trucks would be out front instead of over by the zoo.”

“Where is he right now?”

Biddle fished a slip of paper from his pocket and slid it across the table to Olivia. She stared at what was written.

“That's his home address but with so much to do down at the station following a bust with fatalities, it's unlikely he's made it there already,” Biddle explained. “In Austin?”

“In Waco. About ten minutes from here.”

 

When Heath dragged through the door a half hour earlier, it seemed he'd been picked up by aliens and dropped into a parallel universe. The home that had been empty and quiet since his folks moved away was bustling with activity, sound and smells. Every television in the place was turned to a different station so his father could wander from room to room and keep his eye on the college games.

In the kitchen three beautiful women and a strange-looking teenage girl were pulling together a hasty feast. Heath stood in the doorway, his hair still damp from his shower and watched their frantic activity. As amazing as it was to be suddenly surrounded by his family, Heath felt incomplete. As much as he hated to turn around and leave, he had to go to Olivia right away and explain.

“Son, are you about to starve? It's a good thing you gave us a couple days' notice because there wasn't a bite to eat in this house.” His mom turned from the countertop where she was scooping up juices from the roasting pan and dumping them back over the turkey.

“That must be how he stays so thin,” the young girl with the spiked hair and pierced nose commented. She raked him up and down with smudgy eyes, looking like somebody should take a washcloth to her face.

“Oh, Dana, stop worrying about your weight,” his sister Erin coached her daughter. “When spring soccer starts, those few pounds you want to lose will melt off faster than your dad can bake an apple pie.” Erin turned her gaze to Heath. “But I do agree our baby brother needs to be fattened up a bit.”

Smiling into Erin's face was like smiling at his own reflection, the family resemblance was so strong. Heath hurt with the need to share this new sense of connection with Olivia.

“I'd be jealous of that skinny body of his if I didn't enjoy my curves so much,” his older sister teased. “You and I have that in common, Dana.” Alison was a vision in her colorful dress and cowboy boots with her long red hair caught in a braid that hung across her shoulder.

“Let me help you with that, Mom.” He hurried across the floor to lift the turkey and slide it into the waiting oven. “Want me to mash those potatoes for you?”

She wiped her fingertips on her apron and then placed the back of her hand against his forehead.

“What are you doing?” He squinted, confused.

“I'm checking to see if you have a fever. You've never offered to help in the kitchen before, so I figured you must be sick.”

He tenderly squeezed his mother's hand and joined in the laughter at his expense. “Very funny.”

“Where did you ever learn to mash potatoes?” She was skeptical and rightly so.

“You'd be surprised what I've learned recently.”

“Heath,” his dad said as he walked from the hallway into the kitchen, “you have company.” He stepped aside.

The most incredible dark eyes this side of heaven fixed Heath with an accusing stare.

“Olivia?” he breathed, unbelieving.

Her mouth popped open like words wanted out but couldn't get past her lips. She looked from one stranger to the next trying to understand the cozy scene in the room. A small cry escaped her throat as she turned around and marched out.

Shock held him frozen, but only for a moment.

“Wait!” He rushed toward the front room. She was already out the door, stomping toward the red truck parked beside his black SUV. “Will you let me explain?”
His words were white puffs in the freezing air. “I was about to come get you.”

She yanked open her Chevy's creaky door and vaulted into the driver's seat, sending her knit cap flying across the frozen lawn. Heath grabbed the doorframe before she could slam and lock it.

“Come back inside so we can talk.”

“You mean so you can lie some more.”

“Please, Olivia.” He begged for a chance to explain. He'd known this time would come. “It was part of the job.”

“Yeah, I know. Biddle told me all about your cover and your suspicions, how you figured out for yourself that I was in the clear. How'd you manage that, by poking around in my dresser drawers?”

“To be honest, yes.”

She jammed the key in the ignition, twisted it clockwise. Nothing happened. She tried again but the truck refused to crank.

Thank you, God!

“Let's go back inside so you can meet my family. It's gosh-awful cold out here.” He buffed his palms over his bare arms.

Olivia grabbed her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder as she hopped down from the seat. In three long strides she snatched up her cap, crammed it on her head and then stomped down the street. He sprinted for the front porch where his father was waiting, a warm jacket in one hand and keys in the other. He tossed them to his son.

“I'll be back as soon as I can,” Heath called to his father, and then added, “Dad, I've always loved you and Mom.”

“We've always known it, son.”

 

Olivia didn't need to turn her head to know who was driving the big SUV as it pulled alongside her.

“I'll take you back to the shelter, just get in,” Heath shouted through the open window.

Her toes were numb—she didn't have any choice. She nodded, he jammed on the brake and she climbed inside.

Her heart had hurt so miserably only a couple of hours before, but it seemed to have lost all sensation. Maybe even the will to beat. The anger and betrayal were so intense they eclipsed the fear that had robbed her of a night's rest. She rode in silence for as long as she could stand it. She deserved some honest answers.

“Who are those people?”

“My parents and my two sisters. The Goth kid is my niece.”

“You have
sisters?
”

He nodded. “I never met them before today.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He had the good sense not to argue.

“Whose house is that?”

“Mine. I bought it from my folks a couple years ago so I could get them to leave town.”

“You grew up right here? Never lived in Austin at all.”

“That's right.”

“You're a Waco cop.”

“Undercover for the last seven years. That's why I never hooked up with my sisters when they tried to reach me. I couldn't risk exposing them to my work.”

“But you didn't have any problem exposing me, did you, Heath?”

He turned into the service entrance beside Table of Hope and pressed on the brake.

“You were a
suspect,
Olivia. It was my job to find out if you were guilty.”

“So you lied to me over and over and over.”

“I lie for a living. I say whatever my cover requires to keep me alive and get the job done.”

She searched in her purse, and when her fingers grazed the spiky wad she grabbed the keys. She pushed open the heavy vehicle door letting in a blast of frigid air.

“Congratulations, you're alive and you got the job done.” She slid to the ground, then turned back to face him, noting the familiar SUV. “Whose vehicle is this?”

“Mine.” He shook his head like he knew it was useless to explain. “I'm so sorry. If you'll just let me come inside, I'll tell you everything.”

She heard the apology in his voice, saw the sadness in his eyes. Too bad.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Heath.” She closed the door and walked away.

Inside the back entrance the hallway was blessedly warm and empty. Conversation and cheers echoed from the big room. Olivia let herself into her apartment, folded into a heap on her bed and stared at the dresser that Heath had searched.

She muffled her cries with the stocking cap that was all she had left of her daddy and sobbed as her hardened heart began to thaw. The pain was jagged and cold like the shattering of icicles as they fell from the eaves of Table of Hope.

S
aturday morning Olivia splashed her eyes with icy cold water and prayed that the puffiness would be less noticeable by the afternoon. Twenty-four hours of blubbering and wrestling with the Holy Spirit had left her worn out but convinced that God would somehow use this pain for her good and His glory.

“Miss Livvy, can I come in?” Amos called from the stairwell as he rapped his knuckles on the apartment door.

“Of course,” she answered, turning the bolt allowing him to enter.

They embraced for a moment, awkward as they hadn't yet spoken since her discovery of Heath's deception.

“Thanks for taking care of everything so I could have a couple of days to myself. I don't know what I'd do without you.” She settled into her favorite rocker and motioned for Amos to take the sofa. He sat at the far end.

“Well, here's the thing.” His voice wavered. “My daughter asked me to come to Houston and live with her for a spell. She has a little guestroom and I could have my own space.”

Olivia held her breath and waited for the rest, not sure her heart could take another loss so quickly.

“That sounds perfect.” She looked toward the frosted window to hide the hot tears she thought had drained dry.

Amos scooted down the sofa until he was close enough to take her hand.

“Yeah, I know it
sounds
perfect, but before long we'd both be sorry we were stuck under the same roof. So I told her a visit would be nice, but I plan to keep livin' in Waco. Miss Livvy, I'd like to stay here and work with you for as long as you'll have me.”

Olivia leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Amos's scrawny body and hugged him fiercely. “I'll do a lot better than that. We'll figure out how to give you some private living space and I'll hire you to help me manage the shelter. I need you, Amos. I can't do this all by myself and paint, too.”

“So, you really want to do the art thing, huh?”

“I do.” She allowed herself a relieved smile over the decision. “It's a gift God's given me and I owe it to Him to see how far I can take it. So would you stay with me and be my partner, Amos?”

“First I need to tell you something.”

“Anything.”

“I knew about Heath, being undercover and all. I even worked with him and Biddle right at the end. You see, the night Nick needed to talk to somebody, it was to confess that he'd been involved with trafficking some of those sorry pills. He's just a stupid kid, doing it to make some fast money, thinkin' that was a way to get back on his feet. Heath was able to get Nick off with a year of probation for cooperating and telling us where the big drop was being made. That's what set the whole
plan in motion and got our town rid of those spineless drug dealers.”

“Where's Nick now?”

“Downstairs, scrubbin' my kitchen floor with a toothbrush.” Amos grinned. “Biddle decided to turn the community service idea into the real thing. If you'll allow it, Nick will be with us until his probation is up. I'll work him like a rented mule.”

“That's fine with me,” she agreed. “Everybody deserves a second chance.”

“Later today I want you to remember that,” Amos said softly. “We all wish we could change things in our past but God doesn't give us a Mulligan in this life. Instead He commanded us to forgive and love one another and that's the best do-over of all.”

 

Heath stepped inside the Studio Gallery and paused to catch his breath. His pulse was racing and he could feel the throbbing in his temples. The place was packed.

Thank you, Lord! For everything Olivia's done for the community, she is so deserving of this opportunity.

He straightened the tie his dad had loaned him and checked the button on his suit jacket to make sure it was still tight where his niece had sewn it on
with red thread.
He felt in the pocket of his dress slacks for the wad of tissue his mom had given him. Lastly, he looked down at the shiny new pair of cowboy boots his sisters had brought him from West Texas, insisting they wanted their baby brother to have a memorable gift from their reunion. If the pointy toes kept hurting his feet, they'd be memorable all right.

Satisfied that he was presentable, Heath stretched tall and studied the room until he spotted Olivia's profile. Her thick black hair perfectly framing her face, her head
held high, her unadorned eyes crinkled by some interest, her lips curved by her always positive temperament. She laughed, turned to someone at her side, glanced up for a moment and spotted him. Her eyes opened wider, as if her vision couldn't be trusted. He prayed the surprise in her face was a good thing. He prayed it would still be there by the time he squeezed through the bodies that separated them. He prayed it wasn't too late.

She met him more than halfway, bringing him a flute of something pink with bubbles floating to the top.

“What's this?” He took the tall skinny glass and held it suspiciously to the light.

“Truth serum,” she deadpanned.

“In that case—” He touched his crystal rim to hers. “Cheers.” The entire glass of fruity pink seltzer went down well, leaving a fizzy feeling in his mouth. “Want seconds?”

“That's not necessary. Believe me.”

“How can I ever believe you again, Heath?”

“You have to give me another chance. I promise I'll earn your trust, Olivia.”

“I don't even know who you are.”

“Yes, you do. There was more truth than lies, but I was afraid to tell you everything.” He gave their glasses to a passing waiter, took her soft hand in his and guided her to a quiet corner of the gallery where a nook of her paintings offered them privacy.

“My amazing and kind Olivia.” Heath touched her cheek tenderly hoping she wouldn't reject him. “My parents didn't die together in an accident like I said. The truth is my two sisters and I come from a very violent home. Our father killed our mother and went to prison, where he died a few years ago. The three of us were split
up in the foster care system. I was adopted, Alison and Erin weren't.

“Ever since I discovered my history, I've been afraid it was also my legacy. I expected that I'd be lacking, so I never looked for fullness in life. But you helped me remember that God is a God of second chances. The department, my parents, and my sisters have all given me the opportunity to be a new man. But no human other than you can make me complete.”

He fished for the tissue in his pocket and dropped to one knee.

“Oh, no!” Olivia's hands flew to cover her mouth.

“No?” Heath prepared to stand.

“No, I mean yes!” She pressed her palms to his shoulders pushing him back to his knee. “You just stunned and surprised me.”

“I'd like to surprise you for the rest of our lives, if you'll let me. I love you, Olivia.”

“Wait.” Olivia pulled him to his feet and tugged him to the same bench where they sat on their first visit. “How will we do this? You know Table of Hope isn't just my mission. It's my life.”

“Work can't be your life any more than it can be mine. I'm moving to Biddle's division so I can focus on computer crime. Then you won't have to worry about me being on the street. If you'll delegate some stuff to Amos, you can take a couple of days off each week to paint. I'm sure there must be a great guy beneath the surface of that miserable old curmudgeon, so if you want we could hire him, give him your apartment.”

“If Amos had my place, where does that leave me?”

Heath smiled, unsure if he'd led her to this moment or she'd led him. Either way, he was right where he
wanted to be. He got back on one knee and took her hand, offered her the twinkling diamond her mother had passed on from his grandmother. “In
our
home. Together we'll become part of my family, whoever and wherever they are. That is if you still love me, Olivia. Please let me hear it from your lips again.”

“I love you, my darlin'.” Her eyes were bright with emotion, nothing held back. “I had to say it at least once that night in the doughnut shop and now God's made a way for me to say it to you forever.”

Heath reached for her hand to slip on the ring. It fit. Just as her world would fit his. Perfectly.

Heath's life with Olivia was a cup of new possibility, full and overflowing.