Law resounded in his brain: if something can go wrong, it will, and at the worst possible time.
He opened the door, wishing Josh and Becky hadn’t picked that moment to mushroom their verbal argument into full-scale hand-to-hand mortal combat. “Hey. Stop it, you guys! Becky, let go of him.”
“He took my game!”
“I wanna play Super Power Rangers!”
“Find yours!”
“You lost mine!”
“Did not!”
“Did—”
“Josh. Stop. Now.” Alex plucked the scrappy boy up from the carpet and kept him out of Becky’s reach, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Becky had grown, which meant a shopping trip and the ensuing arguments over clothing. Emma couldn’t care less about what she wore, and if someone saved her the trouble of shopping so she could get lost in a book, all the better.
Becky?
Her word was law in the kids’ department.
“Give it to me.”
Alex plucked the electronic game system from Josh and held it up. “That’s not how you ask for things, Becky.”
“I shouldn’t have to ask for it,” Becky screeched. “It’s mine! He took it!”
“I need it!” wailed Josh.
“Well, you can’t have it. It’s mine.” Becky stomped her foot, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “And no one...” she angled a scathing look up, a glare that included her father and brother “...has my permission to use it.”
Nancy’s quick intake of breath screamed disappointment in him and her grandchildren’s behavior.
Becky’s decision to make a hard-line stance right now was a big mistake. Huge. First to mouth off to her father, but second to do it in front of her disapproving grandmother. Nancy had suggested in the past that he would most likely muck up raising her daughter’s children. The current scene gave him little room for argument.
She’d also opposed his decision to move the family to the more rustic, rural Troop A area. She’d accused him of running away. What she didn’t get was how soul-tired weary a guy could get fighting crime in the city. Surrounded by need and want, desperation and dejection. Losing Jenny left enough sadness in his life.
He’d opted for this new setting purposely, a fresh start. Trees and hills. Peace and quiet.
Well, okay, that last was purely subjective, considering the battle of wills raging between his kids now.
He trained his gaze firmly on Becky, hoping she wouldn’t pick this moment to dig her heels in. “Go to your room.”
“No.” She folded her hands tighter, thrust her chin farther into the air and tapped a foot. At that point she might have wanted to thank her grandmother for showing up unexpectedly because the kid had no idea how close to death she might be.
Alex set Josh down. Josh immediately tried to grab the gaming device, missed and managed to rake his nails across his father’s chin instead.
“Oh, he’s bleeding!” Nancy exclaimed. Her hand flew to her mouth as though taken aback by the level of violence. “Alex, what have you done?”
“He’s not bleeding,” Alex replied, disgusted with himself for letting things get out of hand. “I am. Becky. Room. Now.”
She glared at him, her expression mulish, her profile taut, as if she had a choice.
She didn’t.
“Becky, maybe if you apologize to your father...” Nancy’s unwelcome entreaty interrupted the emotional scene.
“Go to your room. If I have to carry you, you lose privileges for the week.”
“The week!” Stomp! Stomp! “Because he’s a brat? Because he takes things that don’t belong to him? I get punished because my brother’s a brat?”
“And we’re done.” Alex swooped down, picked her up, carried her upstairs to her room and left her alone to pitch a fit, which meant they’d be lucky to make the mid-morning service in ninety minutes. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Something sailed off the door. Alex reminded himself to be grateful for antique solid oak doors and hoped it was a softcover book. Hardcovers left bigger marks.
* * *
Engaging.
The Federal-style brick home epitomized grace, thought Lisa as she stepped out of her Gardens & Greens SUV. White-rimmed windows stood out against aged red brick. Evergreen shutters flanked sparkling glass, and each shutter featured Americana-styled inset stars separating the panels. A slate gray roof complemented the tones beneath, and shade trees, newly leafed, would offer welcome respite from summer heat.
Delightful.
Right until the front door burst open and a shrieking wildcat of a girl raced out, yelling naughty things over her shoulder. Delightful downgraded to wretched normalcy in the blink of an eye.
“Rebecca Eileen! Get back in here this instant, or I’ll—”
Alex caught sight of Lisa. Surprise and chagrin mixed on his features. His shoulders sagged. He stopped, ran a hand across his chin and frowned, but was the frown from his forgetfulness or the current melodrama?
Lisa wasn’t sure, but the look on his face said the morning couldn’t possibly get worse.
Except it had with her arrival.
Which only made the situation funnier in Lisa’s book. “Good morning, Alex. That, I take it—” she hooked a thumb to the right where a stubborn little girl, pigtails bouncing, strode down the street “—is Becky.”
“That’s her, all right.”
Memories split Lisa’s sympathies. She’d been the bullheaded one in the family, the scrapper, the fighter. Luckily she’d grown out of it, but maybe that doggedness helped her in her fight against cancer. Who could say?
Alex’s expression said he hated being caught with out-of-control kids. Embarrassment and irritation painted stress lines on features that had looked pretty serene yesterday. Lisa moved closer and made a face of sympathy. “I’ll come back another time. After you’ve had time to dispose of the body properly.”
“What!”
Another voice entered the melee, a female voice, shocked and chagrined.
Surprised, Lisa stopped.
Alex turned.
A little boy voice whined, “Do I have to stay in these stupid clothes another whole hour?” Only he stretched the word hour into four elongated syllables.
“Nancy, this is Lisa Fitzgerald from the nursery Emma was telling you about.” Alex offered the introduction through the screen door, so Lisa had no idea who Nancy was, but figured she must belong to the yacht-length elegant car in the driveway.
“Lisa!” Emma came around the side of the house, ran to Lisa’s side and hugged her around the waist. “I’m so glad you came. Becky’s acting like a—”
“Emma.”
“Well, she is, Dad. And Grandma’s here and we’ve missed church unless Dad makes us go to the other church where the screechy old lady sings songs I don’t know so we’ve just about ruined Sunday.”
Lisa looked at her watch. “You’ve got ten minutes to make it to Good Shepherd. Go.”
“Go?” Alex looked at her, confused. A questioning look took in the wayward child two houses down.
“Yes, go. If Becky wants to come, I’ll drive her over. If not, she can stew and be left behind. I guarantee she won’t