A Mother's Promise. Ruth Scofield
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cushion, but not enough to finance his restaurant scheme. He had to have solid backing, and he couldn’t go much longer without a steady income, either.
Maybe he was a dreamer. Sharon wouldn’t have approved, and neither had her parents when he’d mentioned the idea. He hadn’t a jot of restaurant experience, they pointed out, and his chances of failure were high. Plus, they argued, he had an obligation to support the children in a way that their daughter would have wanted.
Still, the dream only grew stronger.
“Daddy, Tony’s gonna hit me,” Bethany declared, her little chin thrust out as she glared at her brother. Her voice yanked Ethan back to the situation at hand.
“It’s mine,” Tony insisted. The boy squinted defiantly at his sister, his small hands balled into fists.
Ethan swooped Tony up by the waist just as he let a fist fly, missing Bethany by inches.
“Okay, Stacy…”
Without a word to Bethany, Ethan set the squirming Tony on his feet, yards away from his sister. Then he took the Game Boy out of her hands, leaving her to sputter, and put it high on a kitchen shelf in time out.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” he said into the phone. “I’ll watch your two while you and that hubby of yours take a getaway weekend.”
“Now you’re talking,” Stacy crowed. “Fitch will be thrilled. Next weekend?”
“Ahh…next weekend…” He hedged, his thoughts rapidly reviewing his options. One whole weekend shot, but then he’d have achieved payback. And often, the kids fought less with their cousins around.
He hemmed a moment, then let his sister pounce.
“Next weekend, buddy boy, or it’s a no-go. Fitch and I need a break. Two days and two nights.”
“Two nights?” Hiding his elation, he teased her with an exaggerated groan. He couldn’t let his sister think she’d let him off too easy.
“Yep. Friday and Saturday. And you provide tonight’s pizza.”
“All right, you got it. I’ll see you soon.”
He’d drop his children at Stacy’s house on his way to pick up Lisa Marley.
Lisa wiped the last empty table in her station at the restaurant where she worked. The dinner rush in full swing, she headed toward the kitchen with a tray of dirty dishes. Returning, she refilled coffee cups for the lingering diners at table twelve, handed menus to the newly seated table ten, then checked the time. Thirty minutes till Sally came in at seven. Thirty minutes until her long shift ended.
She’d been on her feet since before the restaurant opened at six that morning. But Sally had needed a favor, and Lisa was glad for the extra time. Besides, tomorrow being Saturday, she’d work only a half shift.
And then on Sunday she could see Cecily. For two whole hours, she’d be allowed to play with her daughter. To hold her, talk to her. The thought was the only thing keeping her going….
Afterwards, maybe she’d borrow Uncle Fred’s truck again to drive out to the evening service at Blue River Valley Community Church. Beth Anne talked so lovingly of the members there, Lisa hoped…well, maybe some of them wouldn’t freak out if they knew she’d served time. She wouldn’t tell them, though, not if she could help it.
Fingering her pocketful of change, Lisa gauged it to be about five or six dollars. Enough to buy Cecily a book if she had the time and opportunity to run by a store. Her tips in bills amounted to forty-eight dollars. Pretty good for a no-alcohol-served family eating place. Saturdays were always good.
Night tips were better. She’d take nights quick as a blink, except Mrs. Braddock thought it better for her to work days until she’d proved herself. And a year under Mrs. Braddock’s watchful eye wasn’t forever, she reminded herself.
Waitressing didn’t pay as well as her office manager position had, and wasn’t the easiest job in the world. But no one questioned past references too closely, either. And Lisa was learning to be good at the work.
In all probability, she’d never become the cashier. Too many doubts from her manager. Nor would she gain another job as an accountant-slash-office manager. Most firms didn’t put much trust in a convicted embezzler.
Returning from filling salt shakers, she spotted a new customer at the counter. Ethan Vale.
His dark hair appeared loosely brushed and needed a trim. He folded his hands, resting them on the countertop as he acknowledged her slight nod. His mouth curved upward. She noted his short, clean nails. A man who kept his nails neat always impressed her.
“You’re early.” Without conscious thought, she smoothed the apron over the food-spattered white blouse. Perhaps it had been a mistake to agree to let him pick her up at work. She didn’t want people from New Beginnings coming in here, snooping. She didn’t want anyone at work to know of her personal life, either.
Besides, she hadn’t had a chance even to brush her hair since noon, much less check her makeup. She handed him a menu.
“Yeah, got lucky,” he said, flashing a half smile that did more than merely hint at charm. It lit his face with warmth and made her want to see that grin full-blown.
“Hope you know that’s the only luck you’ll get today,” she snapped. Too much charm made her jittery.
He chuckled, his light-brown eyes gleaming with humor. “Not that kind of luck. I’m not looking. Well, not right away, I’m not. What I mean is my sis offered to take my kids to an animated movie with hers. They’ll stay the night.”
At the mention of his children, Lisa let a twist of envy dissolve before saying, “That’s nice. But I can’t leave until my replacement comes in. Want something while you wait?”
“Like what?” He shrugged off his denim jacket as though to settle down.
“You aren’t eating supper here, are you?” Dismay was evident in her tone, and she could have kicked herself for making him aware of her turmoil.
He raised a brow. “Coffee will do.”
A surge of customers kept her busy after that. Sally rushed in, later than she’d promised, and by the time Lisa changed clothes in the ladies’ room, they were already late for the Bible Study.
Ethan waited for her out front.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as they reached Ethan’s car, aware she was falling into an old pattern of apologizing for something she couldn’t control.
Uncle Fred had dropped her off at work that morning. She hated to depend on anyone else for anything. It threw her into a panic of defense about causing so much bother. Men hated a bothersome woman.
“Was it your fault?”
“Not really, no.”
“Then you don’t have to apologize. You couldn’t leave before now or you’d have left your employer in a bind.”
She slid a glance his way. Did he really believe that or was he only being nice? She took a deep breath and let it out. He was right about one thing. She would no longer apologize for something that wasn’t her fault or that she couldn’t control.
“How far to Jimmy’s house?”
“Twenty minutes. Relax. It’s no big deal if we’re a little late.”
“So you say. It’ll be over soon after we get there.”
“On a Friday night? No one’s likely to rush home.”
True enough. Lisa hadn’t thought of that. “I have to be home by ten.”
“Ten?”
“Yes. Ten.”
“Why?”
“I just do.”