There Comes A Season. Carol Steward

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СКАЧАТЬ the words were out of her mouth, her son rushed through an explanation of how he’d come to talk to the stranger. After having seen his own father at the hands of the paramedics, she didn’t have the heart to lecture her son about trying to help a stranger who’d appeared to need medical help.

      “I don’t know how we could fit that in this year, honey.”

      “But Dad said when I turned eight I could play.”

      “T.J.” Her mouth went dry. How could she explain?

      “Please, Mom.”

      “Wasn’t the sign-up last week?”

      The smile disappeared. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that she’d just broken her son’s heart. Didn’t every boy dream of being an all-star quarterback at one time?

      “Here’s the coach’s phone number. Can’t you at least call him?” Then as if he knew exactly how to turn the knife, he added, “Dad wouldn’t have forgotten to sign me up.”

      She took the tattered paper and stuffed it into her pocket. That was when Todd was going to be the coach. Things changed. “Go wash up. Supper’s ready.”

      If you’d take this baby, you wouldn’t have to worry about the money. The fact remained, though, that Bryan Beaumont knew nothing about raising a child, which meant she’d not only be caring for his son, but also trying to teach another workaholic father how to be a dad. To make matters worse, this father wasn’t her husband. This one was single, incredibly handsome and obviously had the means to substitute his love and attention with any number of material toys.

      Both hands full, Laura kicked the refrigerator door closed. She set the gallon of milk and the skillet of hamburger gravy on the table, then sat down and waited for the children to settle before offering thanks. Their routine had. changed so little, it was as if her husband were at a board meeting and would return before the evening was over.

      After supper, she finished the dishes and helped the kids get ready for bed, still agonizing over both problems. She thought of calling Bryan’s secretary for more information, as Vicky had been a client once, but realized how unprofessional that would appear.

      Then she wondered if she should call the football coach.

      Out of the question.

      What could she say? Thanks for your encouragement, but I just can’t afford it? Not a chance. The last thing she wanted was some do-gooder giving them charity. It wasn’t that there really was no money to spare, but she was trying to keep within a budget, and after buying new tires and paying the plumbing bill, it would cut into the emergency fund. Not a good way to start the month.

      She could always go into detail about how challenging it was to transport nine kids to practices. Or spew out her personal sob story and sound like a whiny, helpless woman. Forget it. They’d manage. There would always be next year, after life had settled into a dull and boring routine again.

      Football taken care of, she set her mind to the problem of filling her opening, or more to the point, how to not fill the opening. At least, not with the adorable son of a potently handsome widower who twisted her words to suit his needs.

      Sleep. That would clear her mind.

      Wrong.

      The quiet only filled her mind with more guilt. The furnace kicked on, squealing at first, then dissipating to a rhythmic drone. Oh, the joys of a fixer-upper. Before winter’s over, the furnace too, will most likely need to be replaced.

      She rolled onto her stomach and covered her head with a pillow as overgrown branches of the giant maple rubbed against the side of the house. Another chore Todd had meant to do this summer.

      Before long, the mental list of possible repairs had tripled, and her headache was pounding. “Okay, I get the message, God. You’ve always provided for our needs, and now is no exception. But why through a single father with an attitude?”

       Chapter Three

      The next morning, Bryan parked his white sports car in front of Laura’s house. He saw the freckle-faced kid deposit a sack of trash in a barrel, then grab a basketball and shoot three baskets—all net.

      Tucking Jacob into the crook of his arm, Bryan hustled up the driveway. “Hi. I’m Bryan. We met yesterday.”

      The boy looked puzzled.

      “You were playing football. I’m the coach.”

      “That was you?” The boy’s sparkling eyes grew bigger.

      Bryan nodded. His smile couldn’t begin to express his joy at finding this kid again. “Are you Laura Bates’s son?”

      “Uh-huh. You know my mom?”

      She’s a widow, and never said a thing. And I told her she couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to lose a loved one. Great one, Beaumont. Open mouth, insert foot. “I talked with her last night about watching my son. What did she say about football?”

      “She said it’s too late to sign up,” he complained.

      “Oh yeah? Let’s go talk to her. We’ll see what we can do.”

      Bryan followed T.J. into the kitchen and watched silently as Laura flipped pancakes.

      “Chad, you’re going to be late for school. Will you please hurry?” She pivoted, jumping when she saw Bryan standing in the doorway.

      “Your son and I met outside. He invited me in. Sorry I startled you.”

      T.J., obviously forgetting football at the sight of warm pancakes, walked between Bryan and Laura with a plate piled high. Not that he blamed the kid. They looked delicious.

      “Good grief T.J., you’d think I never feed you.” She took several pancakes off his plate and returned them to the platter. “You may have seconds after you’ve eaten those.”

      Laura glanced back at Bryan, her face full of strength, shining with a steadfast and serene peace. “I didn’t expect you quite so early, but that’s okay. Help yourself to breakfast if you’d like.”

      Her other son sauntered into the spacious kitchen.

      “Chad! You’ve been up for an hour, why aren’t you dressed?” She excused herself, then disappeared with her youngest son in tow. A few minutes later, both returned, and the doorbell rang. Laura’s workday was beginning. Preschoolers and toddlers arrived every few minutes and she introduced Bryan to each of the parents.

      “How do you stay so calm with this chaos?”

      She laughed, seeming very pleased with something. “It grows on you.”

      While she was busy feeding the toddlers and helping her children prepare for school, he mentioned registering T.J. in football.

      She stole a guilt-ridden glance at her son.

      T.J. СКАЧАТЬ