Second Chance Dad. Pamela Stone
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Norma stood silently in the door, wearing her motherly wisdom like a halo, and once again, Hanna felt like the child who had performed below expectations. “Mom, can you lock up?”
Her mother touched Hanna’s shoulder. “Why don’t you lock up and let me go after him? He’ll calm down walking the few blocks. Take time to calm yourself before confronting him again.”
Hanna resented her mother stepping in and playing the good cop when Ashton was angry at Hanna, but it probably wasn’t a bad idea. “Okay, but I won’t be long.”
Collecting her purse from the office, Norma marched across the street to her blue Chevy, which was nestled against the curb between two tall pickups. The only time there was any real traffic was on spring weekends, when tourists descended on Hill Country to see the wildflowers.
Turning out lights and locking the back door, Hanna stopped short at the sight of Vince Keegan standing inside the shop. “Do you need something?”
For once, he didn’t smile. “It’s time you and I had a little chat.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’m not up for any more confrontations today.”
“Lady, when someone upsets my kid enough that she calls me crying, I want to know why. And when you start telling people, especially my daughter, that I’m a bad parent, then Mackenzie’s the least of your problems.”
“Your daughter is out of control.” The more congenial approach would have been to offer him a cup of coffee and calmly explain that his darling daughter was a bad influence on her son, but Hanna’s temper won out over her manners.
His legs were slightly spread and his eyes narrowed. “Out of control? She’s the most in-control kid in town.”
“From what I can see, Mr. Keegan, she does whatever she wants and has no respect for authority.”
“Really?” He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets.
“Need I remind you that your little hellion got Ashton into a fistfight and placed in ISS? She inserted herself in the middle of buying him clothes, completely overriding my wishes. And now she brings him home on the back of some kind of dangerous motorbike without even asking permission. This is only day two! I’m biting my nails in anticipation of what she’ll do the rest of the week.”
“My little hellion kept your little prep from getting his ass kicked on the playground yesterday. And best I can figure, that was her goal again with the clothes advice.” Vince leaned forward and maintained eye contact, grinding his teeth. “Today she gave him a lift home because he was afraid Billy would show up before you got there to pick him up. What exactly do you take issue with?”
“Why would any sane parent buy a sixth-grader a motorcycle?”
“It’s an electric bicycle, and I bought it for her twelfth birthday so she could get where she needed to be while I was working. Unlike you, I realize I can’t be everywhere at once.”
“Just please ask Mackenzie to stay away from Ashton. I can’t do anything about your poor judgment, but I won’t put my son at risk.”
His jaw ticked. “She and I took a class before she was allowed to ride it, and she only rides the side streets where any regular bicycle would go.” He glanced around the store and let out a long sigh. “Why in hell am I defending myself? Since you don’t seem to mind condemning my parenting style, how about we discuss yours?”
“Excuse me?” She stared at his wide shoulders. Why was it that good-looking and cocky were directly proportionate in men?
“Maybe you should reexamine your theory that keeping Ashton under your wing is the best way to protect him.” His voice remained soft and mellow, but his words bit. “Maybe consider what’s going to happen when something goes wrong and you aren’t Johnny-on-the-spot to stand between him and danger. Might consider teaching him to take care of himself and make his own decisions.”
Not hard to see where Mackenzie inherited her disrespect for authority. “So I should let him wear ratty clothes and race around town like a delinquent in training, fighting with other children?”
Vince’s denim-colored eyes narrowed, but he still didn’t raise his voice. “The most important thing to teach kids is judgment and how to make intelligent decisions. If you lock them in a protective bubble, when they do escape they have no idea how to function or protect themselves in the real world.”
“Do not insult my son’s ability to think for himself.”
“He’s giving it his best shot, but you’re dictating how you want him to dress and act. Kids should fit in with their peers, feel like they belong. You’re making Ashton a laughingstock trying to dress him like a miniature yuppie instead of a regular kid.”
Blood pumped through her veins and she took a step toward him. What did this irresponsible father know about how to dress? He was wearing old jeans and a navy T-shirt, blue plaid flannel flapping in the breeze and a Keegan’s Docks cap topping off his faded outfit. Clothes that fitted his self-assurance and tight body like a glove. “You justify letting Mackenzie run wild as teaching her to make wise decisions? Might I ask what her mother thinks of this approach?”
His features stiffened. “Mackenzie doesn’t have a mother.”
Crap. Leave it to Hanna to put her foot in her mouth. Had Mackenzie’s mother deserted them? Died? “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t even acknowledge her apology. “I can’t be with Kenzie every minute, so I teach her how to handle herself.” He came closer, bringing them nose to nose and continued to speak in a deep, controlled tone. “Kid gets invited to a party. All the other kids are swimming, but one kid’s parents didn’t teach him to swim because they were afraid he might drown. He wants to be part of the fun. Guess which kid is most at risk?”
“If the child didn’t know how to swim, a responsible parent wouldn’t let him go to a swimming party to begin with.”
“Yeah, that’s the way to raise a well-adjusted kid. That really helps him grow up and fit in, make friends.” His jaw set. “You have any further issue with Mackenzie, you take it up with me.” He sauntered out of Bluebonnet Books and onto the sidewalk, the bell on the door clanging in his wake.
She vibrated with anger as she locked the front door and made her way home.
HANNA FOUND ASHTON sitting cross-legged on the living-room sofa, his nose buried in his homework while her mom rattled around in the kitchen.
Giving Ashton’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, Hanna put her purse on the credenza and left him to finish his work. “Need any help, Mom?
Norma turned from the fridge. “You can wash your hands and peel the carrots.”
Hanna bit her tongue. Like she was six and needed to be told to wash her hands? “Thanks for stepping in and calming Ashton down.” Hanna dug the carrot peeler out of the drawer. “What do you know about Vince and Mackenzie Keegan?”
Norma ripped apart a head of lettuce. “Mackenzie is Belinda Maguire’s girl. Since Belinda was killed, her father just lets her run wild. Spoils her rotten. Even in church, which is the only time I’ve ever seen her in a dress, she still manages to look like a tomboy.”
“Belinda Maguire? I remember her from school.”
“They were living in Austin. Huge pileup on I-35. Both Belinda and their older child were killed, but if I remember right, Mackenzie wasn’t in the car. She was a toddler.”
Putting her hand over her mouth, Hanna tried to imagine what Vince had gone through. Such a tragic loss. And then to be faced with the awesome responsibility of raising a small daughter alone. She’d think after losing a wife and child Vince would be even more protective than Hanna.
After getting the carrots on to cook, she took a break and joined Ashton