do the right thing. You always do.”
Rupert had said much the same to him at the courthouse. It didn’t make Drew feel any better about wanting things that didn’t align with the “right thing,” like being with Lola or letting his daughter express herself through unique clothing choices.
“Becky,” Drew called out, “grab your things. We’re going to the park before dinner.”
“Dad, Daddy, Papa, Padre.” His daughter lumbered out of the kitchen like a sleepy elephant. Her mouth was ringed with chocolate. “We made cookies. I think I ate too many.” She groaned.
“And you ate them before dinner.” Drew gave his mother a significant look. He expected the rules to be bent by the teenage babysitters he hired sometimes, not his mother. Why had she let Becky go overboard today? He needed his daughter to be rested and in a good mood. Meeting Jane wasn’t going to be easy.
“What good is being a grandmother if you can’t break a few rules?” His mother shrugged. “Besides, you’re going to the park. She’ll run off that sugar.”
“You can have a cookie.” Becky held up a burned one. “I saved this for you.”
“No thanks, Sunshine.”
It took a few minutes to gather Becky’s things and a few more to get her buckled into the back seat of the cruiser. The park was nestled between the elementary and junior high schools. There were swings and a merry-go-round on the elementary school side of the park; trees, picnic tables, and barbecues in the middle; and a wide expanse of grass and benches near the junior high.
Jane sat on a swing, elbows hooked around the chains as if she needed the tenuous grounding.
He’d pushed her on that same swing when they were in high school. She’d always sat in it and gazed up at him, silently begging for a kiss before the ride began. He’d loved her then. He’d loved the way she hadn’t cared what other people thought of her. The motorcycle boots. The leather vest. The lace skirt. The heavy eye makeup one day, the bare face the next. She’d had talent, and she’d known it. Her talent had always been her shield. But now it looked as if her shield was gone.
Drew parked near the merry-go-round, which was Becky’s favorite, and took his time unbuckling her. Becky was nothing like her mother. She was kind and thoughtful. She put others first. She called everyone in her class friend.
“My stomach hurts,” Becky moaned.
“You ate too many cookies.”
“I ate too many cookies,” she agreed with a sigh. “I don’t wanna go to the park. I wanna go home.”
Drew paused. Here was his out. An excuse, so tempting to use.
But it would only postpone the inevitable and get him into trouble with Judge Harper.
“There’s someone here.” Drew tried to make his voice light.
“Is it Mia?” Her best friend in the whole wide world.
Drew cringed, ashamed that he’d wanted Becky to conform. “No.”
“Is it Ms. Williams?”
“No.” Why would she want to see Lola? Had she noticed the interest Drew tried so hard to hide?
Becky dropped her head back. “Then I wanna go home.”
He couldn’t leave without letting Jane meet her. Gary had checked up on Jane last night. She’d held up her end of the judge’s bargain and camped on the undug grounds of the cemetery. If Drew didn’t make an effort to comply, Jane would use it against him. “Come on. Let’s walk out and see this lady. The fresh air will make you feel better, and then we can go home.”
Becky scooted to the edge of the car seat before holding out her arms. Drew picked her up and kept her close.
Jane stopped swinging and stood. She looked like a good wind could blow her over and out of town. But she stood her ground, short blond hair blowing in the breeze. “Becky?”
Becky turned her head, keeping it resting on Drew’s shoulder. “Hi.”
Drew’s heart swelled with pride. He’d taught his daughter good manners. He’d raised her right. Judge Harper would have to see that unemployed, drifting Jane wasn’t fit for custody.
“Becky, honey.” Jane came closer. “I’m so happy to meet you. I’m your—”
“Biggest fan.” Drew cut Jane off. She was just going to blurt out who she was without any warning? “She heard you were going to star in a play.”
“I’m Athena,” Becky said in a shy voice that was totally unlike her normal boisterous tone. “Goddess of war.”
“And wisdom,” Drew added, thinking of Lola, who would never walk away from her child.
There was a crease between