The Debra Dilemma (The Lone Stars Book 4) (23 page)

She flipped to the next picture. It was her sitting on blanket in Zilker Park with her face turned up to the sun. She was at least six months pregnant and enjoying the sunny afternoon. She remembered that day. It was mid-September and she’d had an hour to kill before her shift started so she’d grabbed a blanket and hit the park. “I don’t get it, if he hated me so much then why would he have this? Was he spying on me?”

She handed the picture to Warren. “What does all of this mean?”

Why have these pictures locked away inside a lockbox inside a safe? She set the pictures down and picked up a tiny plastic bracelet that had been tucked under the pictures. It was white and maybe three inches long. It had been cut so it laid flat. She read the name written in blocky black letters. Her hand went to her mouth and her heart beat double time. Because words weren’t possible, she handed it to Warren.

“What?” He took it. “Covington, August John. Sex: Male. Mother: Covington, Debra H.” His eyes were the size of salad plates. “How?”

She shook her head. “No idea. When they took him away…” her voice cracked so she cleared her throat, “I didn’t think to take it off. In fact, I don’t remember them putting one on.”

The truth was she’d been in shock and hadn’t thought at all.

“Either he was there or he had someone there.” He ran thumb up and down the plastic band. “Think he regretted what he’d done?”

“I don’t remember my father regretting anything. He was too busy making everyone’s life a living hell.” Debra couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Why did he have AJ’s hospital bracelet?

“With the exception of you, I don’t think there’s anyone who hates the old bastard more than me, but this feels like regret and in his own way…love.” He scooted his chair back, wheeled hers back, scooped her up, and placed her firmly in his lap. “I’m trying to see this as an apology for all of the shit he’s put you through.”

She thought he was being optimistic. “Maybe.”

Debra knew it was her choice; she could continue to hate her father or choose to see this as an olive branch. She wasn’t quite ready for the olive branch, but somehow she didn’t hate him anymore. It was a start.

“Okay, stop pressuring me. I’ll let you keep the bear, but under one condition.” Debra pointed to the bear.

“Which is?” He nuzzled her neck.

“We get little…well…big outfits for him and dress him up for every single holiday. Including Nurses’ Day, Columbus Day, and National Pizza Day.” She could almost see Black Jack Beary dressed as a penguin or Elvis for Halloween.

“There’s a National Pizza Day? Cool.” He gathered her in more closely.

This was their life and their house and it would be on their terms.

Is that it?” Warren pointed to the little slate-blue clapboard house across the street. Debra had said that Aunt June’s house was 706 East Elm and the gold stick-on numbers on the mailbox read seven-zero-six. The little house was in the arts and crafts style with straight lines and a generous front porch.

“They painted it.” She nodded. “It looks good.”

He took in the post-it note sized front yard with well-tended flowers and bushes lining the house and the chain link fence marking the yard boundaries. Two neat patches of trimmed grass bookended a narrow concrete walkway leading from the street to the house. The front porch was wide, and two whitewashed porch swings hung on either side of the dark red front door. A little one-car detached garage was visible behind two large blue and white work vans advertising –
Helping Hands Residential and Commercial Steam Cleaning-Carpet, Tile and Grout, Furniture, Hardwood, Air Duct, and Water Restoration. We’re your helping hands
—parked single file in the driveway.

If a house could be said to smile, this one did. It looked like a happy place to live—well cared for, but definitely lived-in.

He parked in front of the house. “Want to go up and knock on the door?”

“Sure.” She waited for him come around and open the passenger side door for her. He knew that she liked to do it for herself, but she knew that he liked doing it so she let him. “What if they sold the house?”

“I had my assistant check the tax records. The Knowles family still lives here.” He put his hand in the small of her back and led her up the three steps and then up the walkway to the front door.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” She checked her watch. “They’re probably busy. I think it’s dinner time.”

She rubbed her left thumbnail on her jeans.

“Stop fidgeting. You have nothing to be nervous about. They’re going to love meeting you.” If someone had given his family a house, they would have fallen all over themselves to thank the person. He realized that Debra had probably never been on the receiving end of a random act of kindness and couldn’t know what a miracle it was to have a stranger do something incredible for her. She had no concept of the huge impact she’d had on this family’s life.

“I don’t know. What if they think I’m here to take the house back? Can you tell an adult no take backs?” She turned back to the car. “On second thought, we shouldn’t disturb them.”

The “no take backs” had never occurred to him, but clearly she’d grown up in a house where if she displeased her father he’d take back everything she had. Warren wanted to give her the world and tell her “no take backs.”

“May I help you?” A middle-aged man with kind brown eyes and close-cropped hair walked around from the side of the house toward them.

“Hello.” Debra glanced at Warren like she didn’t know what to say next.

Warren took the lead. “This is Debra Covington and I’m—”

“Thank you so much.” The man scooped both of them up in an awkward double hug. “Ms. Covington, we are so thankful for you.”

He released them, stepped back and called toward the house, “Patty, come quick, Debra Covington is here.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember me.” Debra seemed a little flustered.

“Are you kidding? We pray for you every single night at supper.” He turned back to the house. “Patty.” He drew out the name to at least five syllables.

The man looked a little flustered. “I’m Dave.” He held out his hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, Dave, I’m Debra and this is Warren Daniver.” She shook his hand.

Dave’s mouth fell open. “Warren Daniver? The owner of the Austin Lone Stars?”

The front door opened and a hugely pregnant redhead—all of five feet tall— waddled out. “Who’s here?”

Her eyes locked on Debra and she grinned from ear to ear. “Ms. Covington. I’m so glad to see you again.”

Debra waved. “Please, call me Debra.”

Slowly, Mrs. Knowles waddled across the front porch and down the three steps to the walkway. She wrapped her arms around Debra and pulled her in tight. “You’re our family’s angel.”

Patty Knowles stepped back and grinned up at Debra. “Come in and see what we’ve done with the house.”

“Are you remodeling it?” Debra’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I don’t remember if I told you all those years ago when I showed you the house to rent, that it belonged to my Aunt June.”

“I don’t remember you mentioning it, but back then you were so sad. I just wanted to hug you to death and then tell you that whatever it was, it would be okay.” She took Debra’s hand and pulled her up the walkway. “I’m glad you got your smile back.”

Some people had the gift of reading emotions and feelings in the people around them. It was nice that this lady had cared about Debra way back then. Warren was so glad that Debra had given them this house. Good people deserved good things to happen to them.

Debra nodded. “I can’t believe that you remember me.”

“Are you kidding? I’ll remember you forever. You gave us something that we could never have afforded on our own. Not many people would do that…only the really special ones.” Patty radiated gratitude as she marched into the house. She may be small, but she was mighty. “Now, tell me everything about the house. I want to know its history. Y’all will stay for dinner. We’re having lasagna. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Warren liked this family. They were kind and open and caring. These were the type of people who never met an enemy.

“Kids, come meet Debra Covington.” Patty yelled from the front door.

“You own the Lone Stars. That’s awesome.” Dave gushed. “I’m a huge fan. I watch all of the games on TV. The whole neighborhood does. We all get together at Pete’s house,” he pointed to the house across the street, “he has one of those projector things that shows the game on the living room wall. It’s so fun. We used to tailgate in the street and make it like a block party, but the city kept asking for permits we didn’t have and well…” he shrugged, “We took things indoors.”

“That sounds like fun. How many of you are there?” He would make sure they all had season tickets for the rest of this season and all of next.

“Well, let me see,” Dave glanced up and down the street like he was adding up the participants in his head, “there’s ten of us guys and their families. Everyone on the block except that house,” he pointed to the one cattycorner on the left, “and that one,” he pointed to the last house on the right. “That guy’s a hoarder and his house is gross. We thought about inviting him, but none of us wanted to knock on his door because we were afraid of catching something. Plus, his house smells really bad. On a hot day, you can smell it clear down here.”

“A hoarder? Like the ones on TV?” Warren stared at the house at the end of the street. The house looked normal on the outside even if the yard was a little raggedy. He’d never seen a real hoarder up close and personal. Maybe he’d pop over and introduce himself? On second thought, he really didn’t want to see one up close and personal.

“Yes, it’s really sad and very gross.” He clapped Warren on the back and leaned in close conspiratorially. “A word about the lasagna…it sucks. Patty is a terrible cook, but she tries really hard so we keep positive around her and then feed everything to the dogs under the table. The last time she made her famous lasagna, my daughter Morgan got food poisoning. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Thanks for the warning.” He pulled his phone out of his front left trousers pocket. “I think I might have some friends that can help us out for dinner.”

The sun was low on the horizon. It was in the sixties now, but supposed to drop into the fifties tonight. “Think it’s going to be too cold for a block party tonight?”

Dave’s brow squenched up. “It should be fine, but just warning you…the cops will come by and shut us down.”

“Let me handle the cops.” Or rather let Sweet Louise handle the cops. “You round up the tailgaters and I’ll handle the food.”

“That sounds like a plan.” He winked. “I’m going to tell Patty that we’re having a potluck and then I’ll make sure that the lasagna never sees the light of day.”

“That the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Warren had already tried to kill Debra with peanuts, he certainly didn’t want to tempt fate with food poisoning.

There was something about this family that made him want to do nice things for them. They’d remembered Debra in their prayers and thought of her every day.

Dave set off toward the house and then turned around. “You know…Debra saved us by giving us this house.” His gaze lowered to the ground. “Literally, the day before her lawyer came by with the title, I’d lost my job. Patty wasn’t working because we had two small kids at home. We honestly didn’t know what to do, but all of a sudden, we had a house…we were homeowners.” His voice held such awe. He shook his head. “I know that must sound really stupid to someone like you.”

“Not at all.” He walked up to Dave. Not many people knew that he was a self-made man. “I grew up with nothing. My father ran out on us when I was ten. My mom couldn’t seem to hold a job, so after my father left we moved from rent house to rent house, each one smaller and dingier than the next.” He’d never really talked about this with anyone. “When I bought my first home, I remember just sitting there in the middle of the empty living room—I couldn’t afford any furniture—but I sat there on the floor just looking around in wonder that this was mine and I’d never have to move out unless it was my choice.”

“You really do know how it feels.” Dave’s gaze finally met Warren’s.

“You bet I do. Security for your family is priceless and knowing that you have a home that no one can take from you is tops on the security list.” He’d tried explaining that to Debra a time or two, but she didn’t get it. Maybe it was a guy thing. Women just expected security and didn’t mull over the details.

“As soon as the title transferred into our name, we took out a mortgage so we could start our own company. We named it Helping Hands in honor of Debra. She gave us a helping hand when we needed it.” Dave pointed to the vans parked in the driveway and pride radiated out of him. “We now have a fleet of seven vans and ten full-time employees.”

“Wow.” Warren really was impressed. “That’s awesome.”

“We paid off the loan against the house in less then two years and started putting the money we would have paid in rent into an account to buy houses that we fix up and give away to families just like us.” Dave grinned. “We’ve given away four houses so far and every family we give them to helps us work on the next one. We don’t even have to ask, they just show up to help. Debra started something by giving us a new home and we’re doing our best to continue her good work.”

It was Warren’s turn to be awed. He didn’t think that Debra had any idea of the gravity of what she’d done. “Do me a favor, would you mind telling Debra that. She needs to know. While she didn’t live hand-to-mouth like we did, she didn’t have it easy either. I think it would go along way to let her know exactly what her giving you this home has started.”

And yes, Aunt June, he got the message loud and clear. This is where she would have wanted her inheritance to go.

“No problem. I’m happy to tell her.” Dave nodded. “Or better yet, I can show her. Our fifth house is almost ready. It’s a couple of blocks over.” He pointed over his left shoulder.

“I’d love to see it, and I’m sure she would too.” He held up his phone. “Why don’t you go tell her while I make a couple of calls.”