A Texas-Made Family. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ an attractive strawberry-blonde. Her hair was as curly as Brandy’s, but shorter. Finding seats in the second row from the top, Grant eyed the girl, who appeared to have her hands full with two younger children. Twins, would be his guess. Tough, active little boys. Their antics made Grant smile. But he also felt sorry for the girl, who must be their sister or babysitter. When two older boys raced up and flung their arms around her neck, he wondered how on earth she managed to handle all four.

      Grant was intrigued by the way all four boys and the blond girl had their attention on Ryan, who was indeed at bat. Ryan slugged a home run on the second pitch. The quintet in the front row clapped madly and yelled Ryan’s name. Even more intriguing was what happened two seconds after Ryan jogged triumphantly across home plate. The twins charged right over to him. Grant watched his son scoop both boys up, then, grinning like a hyena, join the blond girl on the sidelines.

      Grant muttered under his breath. The girl had to be Lisa Geroux. Her flashing aquamarine eyes reminded Grant of her mother. And there was no mistaking the chemistry she and Ryan shared. The joy vanished from Ryan’s face the instant the girl turned and pointed to him and Brandy.

      Busted, Grant thought guiltily. She must have heard Brandy’s loud comment when they arrived. His stomach bottomed out the way it did when he pulled too many Gs in flight. Ryan was involved with a girl. And her mother was dead set against the relationship. What a mess. He could’ve retired any number of places, but he’d picked San Antonio. It’d been his first duty station and held some happy memories. He’d hoped his kids would like it here, and that maybe he and Ryan could heal old wounds.

      Now it appeared they could be facing more problems than ever. It was evident they needed to talk about a lot of things. Not here in front of a crowd, but soon.

      Standing, Grant took Brandy’s hand. Ignoring her protests, he led her to the side of the bleachers farthest away from where Ryan stood glaring at them. Grant jumped down and held up his arms for Brandy.

      “Why are we leaving? We never got to watch Ryan pitch.”

      “Turns out this wasn’t a good idea, Brandy. How about we go get ice cream instead?”

      “Rocky road?”

      “Sure.” It would no doubt ruin her appetite for dinner. Here he went again, being far too easygoing. But he couldn’t have both his kids hating him. Maybe he should get a few pointers on tough parenting from Rebecca Geroux.

       Chapter Three

      RYAN LANE stormed into his house around five o’clock, radiating belligerence. Grant had anticipated the outburst, which was why he’d made arrangements for Brandy to play at the home of a new school friend.

      Grant looked up from the couch and marked his place in the Dale Brown book he was reading.

      “What the hell were you doing this afternoon?” Ryan threw his duffel bag on the couch, barely missing his dad.

      “Watch your language, and I suggest you rethink using that tone with me, Ryan.”

      The angry teen showed no inclination to back down. Hands splayed on his hips, Ryan ignored his father’s suggestion. “You haven’t given a damn about anything I’ve done for seventeen years. I don’t want or need you poking your nose in my business now.”

      “You’re wrong about my not caring.” Setting his book on the lamp stand, Grant stood. He still had three inches and a few pounds on his gangly, six-foot son. He recognized the show of testosterone, but Grant was determined to remain cool and in control.

      “Right!” Ryan raised his voice. “You paid housekeepers and nannies, and that means you cared?”

      Grant scraped a finger over the stubble on his chin. “I made sure I hired the most qualified caregivers I could find. My job made it impossible to be a full-time dad. You know, son, I don’t think that’s what’s bugging you now. Why don’t you tell me what you’re really upset about?”

      “I want you to get off my back.”

      “Coming to see you play ball is being on your back? Did you win, by the way?”

      “No! My pitching went to hell after Lisa pointed you out in the stands.”

      “About her…” Grant hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “She and her brothers were certainly excited about your home run.”

      “They aren’t her brothers. Lisa babysits them.” Ryan acted as if his father was short on brain cells. “Their mother works with Lisa’s,” he snapped. “Lisa’s only sixteen, but she’s in all my honors classes. Her brother’s a freshman. Not that I have to explain anything to you about my friends or their families.”

      Grant slid his fists deep in his front pockets. Belatedly he remembered Rebecca mentioning that her daughter babysat. “Ryan, I realize our family isn’t the most conventional. At Ramstein, because it was a closed community, I knew the parents of all your friends. Living off base is an adjustment. I’d hoped it would give us the chance to…get more in touch with each other, for lack of a better term. That’s why I bought a house with a patio and a pool. I want us to do things together.”

      “Like, you suddenly think we’ll have barbecues and be best buds?”

      “For starters, you could invite your friends over some weekend…with their parents,” he added as an afterthought. “I assume your friend Lisa has parents.”

      Ryan scowled. “Lisa works most weekends. And Mrs. Geroux isn’t overly friendly. It’s a bad idea, all right?” He snatched up his duffel. “Besides, it’s just Lisa, her mom and her brother, Jordan. So drop it, okay?”

      Grant heard Ryan clomp down the tiled hall to his room. His door slammed, and instantly the house pulsed with the sounds of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Grant shut his eyes, took a deep breath and reminded himself that Ryan was still just a kid. A kid who’d had too much autonomy for too long. That was Grant’s fault.

      In sudden need of air, he fled to the patio. He’d hired a pool service, but brushing off the day’s accumulation of dust from the pool’s pebbly sides helped clear his mind. He didn’t think he could be of any use to Rebecca Geroux. Not without widening the rift between him and Ryan. Grant had been aware of their rift even before Teresa died. His dilemma had always been that he didn’t know what to say—didn’t know how to explain his and Teresa’s marital problems to a boy who worshipped his mother. And was it too late to explain it all now?

      Crap! Let Rebecca Geroux solve her problems by herself. Lord knew he had enough of his own. Problems that dated back to when he wasn’t much older than his son.

      Teresa had come into his life at a bad time. They shouldn’t have stayed married, but she didn’t want a divorce. And her mental and physical health had been fragile, or so Grant assumed. Too late he discovered a lot had been manipulation.

      Whether she meant to or not, Teresa had let her histrionics drive a wedge between father and son. And after her untimely death, Grant’s guilt kept him even farther from Ryan. He’d floundered, and that wasn’t the military way. So, he’d put the problem out of his mind.

      Grant hung the pool brush on its pegs and headed back to the house. He should probably find Rebecca and explain why he couldn’t help her break the kids up. He also wasn’t happy with the way he’d let СКАЧАТЬ