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can sneak back in without them seeing me and get one to show you. I likethe
one where he's riding a horse best. He doesn't look like a cowboy, though.
He looks more like one of the policemen who ride around in the park. But
not exactly like that either. My mom says he was a teacher at a college and
he taught 'nomics and that's about buying and selling stuff. He's dead now."
He said the last words flatly, as though he were talking about something he
had seen in a movie, as though his father's death had nothing to do with
reality.
David rose and moved to the window, his back to the boy. "Do you miss
him?" he asked softly.
"Sure. He got dead when I was little, so I don't remember him, but I pretend
like I do. I look at the pictures and pretend like I remember riding the horse
with him or playing baseball, stuff like that. Sure I miss him."
When David turned around again, Ben gave him a hard look. "But that
doesn't mean my mom has to marry one of her friends just to get me a dad.
None of them would work anyway,"
"Why not?"
Shaking his head, Ben rolled his eyes in an expressive gesture. "They're all
geeks. Well, Junior's okay, but not. .. but not sporty. He just wears suits. You
can't do sports in a suit," he said in a voice rich with contempt. "Everybody
knows that. If I need a father like Veda says I do, I don't see why I can't pick
out one I like. I could find somebody a zillion times better than Junior or Mr.
Allbright or Uncle Julian."
David grinned. "Think so?"
"Sure. Like Mr. Sherwood, Bobby Sherwood's dad. His other wife left with
a somabitchin' cowboy, so he doesn't have one right now and that's why I
brought him home to show my mom. And he liked her just fine. He told me
so. He wanted to take her to a place where they have contests to see who can
drink the most beer and eat the most peppers without getting sick." He
sighed. "But she didn't go."
David swallowed a laugh. "Mr. Sherwood sounds like good people to me.
What did she have against him?"
"Girl stuff," he said, rolling his eyes again. "She said he says too many bad
words and he spits. She talked to me and talked to me about how it's unfair
to not like somebody just 'cause they're different from you, but she doesn't
like Mr. Sherwood just 'cause he's different from her. She says it's not the
same thing. She said she would defend his right to spit until she was dead.
But she said she has some rights, too, and it's her right to choose friends who
don't spit."
This time David couldn't hold back his laughter. Shaking his head, he said,
"You sure know a lot of words for a seven-year-old."
Ben nodded. "I had my brain tested last year."
"Yeah? How did it come out?"
"They said I had a real good one. They wanted to move me to the third
grade, but I didn't want to, so my mom told them no. I have private lessons
where I can be smart, and at school I can be just as dumb as the other kids."
"That sounds like a good plan," David said, abruptly turning away again.
He had begun to pace before he realized what he was doing. Dammit, he was
acting like a first- class jackass. He was getting all bent out of shape because
this Kate had handled Ben's schooling the right way.
Drawing in a slow breath, he reluctantly admitted to himself that he didn't
want to approve of anything she did. It would be much easier if he found
only fault in her.
Making an effort to relax his tense shoulder muscles, he unclenched his
fingers. He would have to watch that. If he was going to make the right
decisions, decisions that would affect Ben's future, David had to find a way
to be objective.
Kate walked out the backdoor and stood on the porch, glancing quickly
around the yard. When she heard laughter coming through the open window
of the garage apartment, she immediately headed in that direction.
At the top of the wooden stairs she found the door open. Although she could
see her son clearly, McKinsey Smith was out of her range of vision.
Ben, seated in an armchair across the room, was bent over at the waist,
roaring with laughter as he yelled, "Do it again, Mac, do it again!"
A moment later the boy straightened abruptly, his laughter fading. "Why are
you putting your shirt back on? I want to see your muscles jump again."
And then Mac was standing in the open doorway, facing her as he used the
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