edged closer to Brian and put her arm around his narrow shoulders. “Why?”
Duke snorted. “Kid’s six now. He started school last year, and Candy—”
“No. I meant why are you leaving Brian with me? Why aren’t you going to wait for Candy to come home and raise him? You’re her husband and his father.”
He shrugged. “Havin’ a kid was Candy’s idea, not mine. Doesn’t look like she’ll be able to take care of him anytime soon. Besides, I got plans now, and he’s not part of ’em.”
When Brian tried to squirm free from Judy’s grip, Duke nailed the boy to the spot with a glare that sent shivers down her spine. “You behave, boy. Don’t make me come back if I hear you’ve been bad.”
Brian froze and his features paled.
Judy held him tight. She did not know whether to throttle her idiot son-in-law senseless for being such a brute or for abandoning his own flesh and blood. She was even tempted to thank him for bringing her grandson home to her, instead of leaving him to get lost in the maze of foster care. Without giving her a chance to do anything, however, Duke simply got on his motorcycle and drove off.
He never looked back.
He never even said goodbye to his son.
Ginger King and her husband, Tyler, emerged from their house with their cooler packed and ready to leave for some tailgating with their friends from church before today’s doubleheader baseball game between the Philadelphia Phillies and the Chicago Cubs. To her surprise, they ran straight into their daughter Lily, and her eight-year-old son, Vincent.
At thirty, Lily was their youngest child. A single mom, she and Vincent lived in Chicago where she taught elementary school. She had never spoken of Vincent’s father or even revealed his identity, and she had not been home for a visit for nearly two years. Their oldest son, Mark, was in Nashville recording demo tapes and waiting for his big break into country music, while their middle child, Denise, enjoyed life as a flight attendant, headquartered in San Francisco. All were still single, but it was Lily who Ginger worried about the most.
Ginger squealed with delight, hugged her grandson with one arm and her youngest child with the other. “What a surprise! I can’t believe you two! What are you doing here?” Without giving either one the chance to answer, she tussled Vincent’s hair. “Look how tall you’ve gotten. Don’t tell me you’ve become a Cub fan and Mom flew you here from Chicago for the doubleheader today. We were just headed over to the stadium,” she gushed. She knew they would have to ditch those plans now, but her excitement at seeing Lily and Vincent quickly erased her disappointment.
Vincent blushed. “You know I don’t like baseball, Grams.”
Ginger winced. As endearing as the term Grams might be—it was better than Grandmom—yet she was still tempted to look around, as if Vincent were talking with someone else. At fifty-five, she felt and acted twenty-five. She was too young to be a grandmother, by any name. When she looked at the way Vincent wrinkled his nose at the mention of baseball, any hope that he had developed an interest in sports also died quickly, a major disappointment to both Ginger and Tyler, whose social lives revolved around professional sports, especially baseball and football.
“If I remember correctly, you like hot dogs, though,” Tyler prompted. He nodded back toward the house. “How about we go out back and fire up the grill?”
Vincent beamed. “I love hot dogs, Gramps.”
Tyler gave Lily a kiss. “Welcome home, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Daddy, but don’t go just yet. There’s someone I want you both to meet.” She turned and looked toward the curb where Ginger noticed, for the first time, a young man standing next to a Hummer convertible. When Lily smiled and waved for him to join them, the man quickly approached and placed his arm possessively around her. Beaming, Lily took a deep breath. “This is Paul Taft. Paul is my husband. We were married last week.”
Ginger’s heart skipped a beat. “Married? You’re married?” When Lily held out her left hand and the sun flashed on a set of rings beset with diamonds, Ginger’s reaction shifted from surprise to denial and stayed there. “I can’t believe it! You’re married? Really married? Without a word to us first?”
“Yes, Mom, married.”
“Oh,” was all Ginger could manage. Thankful that Lily would no longer be alone and Vincent would finally have a father, albeit a stepfather, Ginger hugged her daughter tight. She also embraced the fact that her daughter’s secretive wedding was only the latest in a long line of disappointments in their relationship.
Tyler set down the cooler to shake hands with their new son-in-law, but his expression was sober and reflected his own disappointment. “You could have told us when you got engaged.”
“I could have helped you with plans for the wedding,” Ginger added. “At the very least, we could have flown out for the ceremony. Mark and Denise would have wanted to be there, too,” she admonished, only too aware of how easily Lily had always been able to set aside her parents, as well as her brother and sister, in favor of her friends.
“Besides, you know how much your father and I love to travel,” she teased.
Lily glanced at her parents and edged closer to Paul. Her cheeks were flushed pink, which added a little color to her plain, girl-next-door looks. “Especially since I got married in a sports town like Chicago,” she retorted. She slipped her hand into Paul’s. “Under the circumstances, we just wanted a private ceremony,” she murmured. “We thought we’d stop here first for a day or so to tell you both, then we need to go to Boston to tell Paul’s family.”
“We can call Mark and Denise while you’re here,” Ginger suggested, “but you can stay as long as you like.” Eager to speak to Lily alone, she looped her arm through her daughter’s. “Tyler, why don’t you take Paul and Vincent out back to start the grill? Lily and I will get the plates and things from the kitchen,” she suggested.
Tyler nodded and picked up the cooler. “This way, guys. We’re probably all better off if we give these two women time for some girl talk in the kitchen.”
While he led them around the side of the house, Ginger took Lily inside to the kitchen. Instead of focusing on her own disappointment, however, she needed to appease her concern that Lily had married someone neither Ginger nor Tyler had ever met. “Tell me all,” she insisted. “Where did you meet Paul? How come you didn’t call and tell us about him? What does he do for a living? Will you still work?”
Lily laughed and held up her hands. “One question at a time, Mom, but for starters, we met on a blind date last year. I didn’t tell you about him because I never tell you about my social life or the men that I date. Paul’s an attorney who spends all of his time representing some of his family’s interests. And finally, no, Taft women do not work.”
With her eyes dancing, she shrugged. “I’m not really sure what the Taft women do with all their time, but Paul assures me that his mother will take me under her wing once we settle in Boston.”
Ginger nearly dropped the stack of napkins she was loading into the holder. “The Taft women? You don’t mean…you couldn’t possibly mean that Taft family.”
“Yes, Mother, I do mean that Taft family.”
“As
