Game of Hearts (11 page)

****

"You're becoming quite the fashion designer, aren't you?" I touched the gauze fabric of the dress Sarah wore. She had made it for her final home economics project.

"Ms. Summers says I'm a natural. She wants me to take her advanced class next year."

"Wow. That's great." I hugged her. It was nice to see her happy. She hadn't mentioned Wes, the boy she liked, for a few weeks. I assumed that crush had passed. Now some football player had her attention. Thank goodness I wouldn't allow her to date until next year when she turned fifteen. That gave me another year before I had to have a heart attack over a boy taking my daughter out in his vehicle.

A car screeched to a halt out front. I gulped down my trepidation. How does Michael always know when I have plans? He must have gotten the letter I'd sent out. Rachel had suggested I wait to confront Michael about the child support until after the wedding, so I'd have the leverage of a father-in-law instead of a girlfriend's dad. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I almost wished I hadn't done anything. My heart pounded as he pulled himself from the Corvette. He slammed the door and glared up at the house.

Sarah folded her arms across her chest. "I wonder what he wants now."

"Finish getting ready. Brandon and the boys will be home from the football game soon." I didn't want her to be part of the argument I knew her father and I were about to have.

Once Sarah was out of the room, I gave myself a pep talk. "Don't fall apart. He owes this money. It's the kids' money, not yours. You're fighting for them."

Michael tried to storm in, but I'd been keeping the front door locked. I counted to three
and
then opened it. "Come in, Michael."

"Who do you think you are?" He shoved past me and marched into the living room.

"I just want what you owe, nothing more. In fact, I came up with new child support figures. If you pay according to this, you'll be caught up within five years."

"I don't care what you came up with."

"You and I both know you're making money somewhere." I worked to keep my voice calm. "You might even be working for the senator under the table. I really don't care. But you owe me over forty-thousand dollars, and I want it. The kids will be going to college soon, and I need money to see to it they can."

"Do you think you can scare me?"

I placed on hand on my hips. "If you don't start paying every month, I'll contact the senator and let him know you're a deadbeat dad. If that doesn't get your butt moving, I'll contact his opponents and the newspapers about your arrearage."

Michael's eyes grew dark. "You stupid little…! Did you think you could threaten me, and I'd just bow to what you wanted? Even your own father doesn't want anything to do with you. Heck, your son doesn't even want to live with you, yet you stand there acting like you're better than me."

"I didn't say I was better than you. I just want you to step up and get current. That's all."

"With the new paint job you've had done on the house, it doesn't look like you're hurting for money."

"I work hard to make a living for us. And it doesn't matter whether I need it or not. You are their father and you owe it."

"If you think you can tell me what to do, you're wrong. I did what I wanted when we were married, and you sure aren't going to push me around now."

"Michael, just give me the money." I sighed. Why did I think this would be easy? "Don't make me go to the senator or the papers."

"If you say anything to Senator Windsome, you'll be sorry." Michael grabbed my arms above my elbows. "You didn't honestly think I would put up with this, did you?"

"Let go of her!" I jumped at the sound of Sarah's voice. I hadn't realized she'd come back into the room.

Michael released me. He spit his venom toward our daughter as he advanced on her. "Don't you start telling me what to do either, little girl."

"I think you need to leave." I grabbed his arm. He shoved it away.

"I'll leave when I want, and no stupid woman or kid of mine is going to tell me different."

Tears formed in Sarah's eyes. Why couldn't I be holding a frying pan in my hands at this moment? "Get out of here, now!" I pointed to the front door. Gravel crunched in the driveway and a car door slammed. "You have exactly two weeks to make your first payment. Now go."

"I'll leave when I'm ready. Don't forget, these are my children, not your boyfriend's."

"Then start acting like it."

The slap came so quickly, it caught me off guard. Tears formed in my eyes from the sting.

A deep voice came from the front door. "The lady said for you to leave. Now leave."

Michael spun to face Brandon. Both men were the same height, but Brandon had more muscle. He took a step into the living room. His eyes bored through Michael.
"I said leave, before I make you leave." He clenched his fists into tight balls.

Michael reared his shoulders back. "What goes on between me and my family is none of your business."

"Caring for this woman makes it my business, and I plan to stay until she tells me to go." Brandon took a step closer to Michael. In a low voice, he said, "Now I suggest you go before I have to embarrass you in front of your children."

Fear crossed into Michael's eyes. He pulled his keys from his pocket and walked to the front door. He paused and glanced at Matthew, who held the door open for him to leave. His son shook his head and frowned. Once he left, Anthony rushed up to me.

"Mom, are you all right?" Tears rolled down his cheeks. "I got scared. I didn't know what to do when I heard him hit you. I ran back and got Brandon to help."

"You did good. Thank you." I knelt and he placed his small hand on my sore cheek. I pulled him into a hug.

"Are you going to be all right?" Brandon asked. His soft eyes filled with concern. With the anger gone, distress stood in its place.

Warmth rushed through me at how much he cared. "I'm going to be just fine. We're all going to be fine." I gave Matthew a smile, and he returned it. "Are you all ready to eat? I'm starving."

"I have to use the bathroom first," Anthony said. "I drank too much
cola
."

"Me too." Matthew followed Anthony down the hall. They talked about a great throw that had occurred during the game. Something inside told me it was big brother helping little brother feel better.

Sarah gave me a weak smile. "I'm going to brush my hair. I'll be right out."

"Sarah." I took hold of her hand. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'd never seen him act like that. It just scared me." She squeezed my hand before she walked off.

Brandon took a step toward me, and I fell into his embrace. As hard as I tried, I couldn't fight the sobs. Everything felt so right with his arms around me. "Did you mean what you said?" My heart continued to beat in my ears. "That you'd stay, as long as I want you to?"

"Yes, Deb. I meant it. You had my heart the first day you fell for me."

I laughed. I knew at that moment I'd fallen in love.

****

Brandon took me to Vinegard's Seafood Restaurant on the ocean in Fernandina Beach. We had a window view, and I listened as waves splashed against the empty shore, deserted due to the February chill. We sat at a small table, Brandon in a chair to my right. Tealight candles flickered, giving the room a romantic feel. I'd never been to such a beautiful place.

It had been a great week. My home business had grown so well, I'd told Tommy at the used car lot I'd only work for him as a freelancer. He'd agreed. It wasn't quite the tell-him-off scenario I'd always pictured, but why burn that bridge?

I hadn't heard from Michael in two weeks. However, he had called the kids and apologized to each for the way he'd acted. Maybe if he realized how much he hurt them, he'd start to change.

Brandon bounced my fingers up and down in the palm of his hand. He'd had a smile on his face since we left my house, kind of like the Cheshire Cat. The only thing missing was the white rabbit. "I'm glad everything is going so well for you."

"You, too. Matthew said you're keeping him busy on Saturdays."

"He's a hard worker. Of course if things keep going, I'll have to get Anthony out there too." Brandon took a large gulp from his water glass.

"I think he's a bit young yet."

"I suppose. But Matthew needed a way to vent. I think swinging a hammer is a good way for him to do it."

"The best part is when he gets home, he's too tired to do anything but eat and sleep."

Brandon chuckled. He raised my hand to his lips and kissed my palm. "I love being with you and the kids. I've grown quite fond of them."

"They're taken with you, too."

"And what about their mother?" He ran his thumb over my lips.

"Very much so." I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He spoke softly, like a whisper in the wind. "I think I've fallen in love with you, Debra Zimmerman."

I bolted upright in my seat. Had I heard him right? I needed a moment to absorb what he'd just said.

Brandon dug into his jacket pocket. "Deb, you'd make me the happiest man in the world if you allowed me to marry you and take care of you and your children."

The black velvet box held a solitaire with accent diamonds around the band. My heart leapt into my throat. Please God, don't let me throw up.

"You don't have to answer me tonight. I know it's kind of soon. We just met a few—"

"Yes," I blurted.

He slid the ring onto my trembling finger and pulled me into a kiss. "She said yes!" he shouted to the other patrons in the restaurant.

We received a standing ovation.

 

Kathryn J. Bain has been writing for over ten years now. She has two daughters, one a professional photographer, the other a college student. Ms. Bain is the Public Relations Director for Ancient City Romance Authors and the former President of Florida Sisters in Crime. She enjoys critiquing for the new members of American Christian Fiction Writers. To survive and pay bills, she has been a paralegal for approximately twenty years and works for an attorney who specializes in guardianships, probate, and estate planning. She moved from Idaho to Jacksonville, Florida in 1983 and has lived in the sunshine since.

 

Oh no. This is not happening,
not
happening
!

I wipe my hands over my pleated skirt, a nervous habit. Sweaty hands aren't attractive, or so Brad Macintosh said when he held them during couple's skate my seventh grade year.

It's my first choir solo ever. Why couldn't it be our fall concert instead of our Spring Spectacular? I feel ridiculous standing in front of the entire school with my mouth gaping open trying to find a middle C. Not to mention the fact that my mother, who is standing up in the front of the audience waving with video camera in hand, forced me to wear a pleated skirt. Thus the outfit is now screaming “uncool” on my lanky body.

Never am I this mean. But when I get nervous, I tend to snap at people. All week I've been at odds with my mom for taking pictures of me. She was literally documenting every day of my life up until the big solo or as she puts it, “my discovery!” Leave it to my mom to turn a junior high solo into the performance of a lifetime, which will not only get her daughter discovered, but will make her a best selling artist all before her eighteenth birthday. Somehow I don't think MTV is going to be knocking on our door anytime soon for the professional footage my mom shot in order to do a “diary” on my life before I was famous.

Nervous and sweating, I begin my solo, praying I remember the words. When I finish, I felt like I'd run the fifty-yard dash the way my heart is hammering, but then I realize everyone is clapping. They're all clapping for me. I did well!

In fact, people are beginning to stand up and clap. I actually feel famous, like I'm a pop star giving my first concert and people love me. THEY LOVE ME!

I bow and do a little curtsy just so they know I'm still humble then wave like Miss America all the way back to my seat with the rest of the choir. Blushing, I try to avoid eye contact with the rest of the choir as they whisper, “good job”. I look humble, but I'm actually soaring because of how proud I am. I actually did it! Now if only my mom would turn off that dang camera and sit down. My dad gives me a thumbs up, and oh yes, my mom is wiping a stray tear from her eye. Looking at them you'd assume I've never done anything exciting in my entire life.