A Family of Her Own
A Family of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #3)(24)
Author: Brenda Novak
“Yeah, there’s no need to wake him this early.”
“He’ll probably be heartbroken that you left him. You’re his idol.”
“It doesn’t take much to be his idol,” he said, but he was smiling affectionately when he said it, which surprised Katie. Booker wasn’t really the type to care about someone like Delbert Dibbs, was he? He wasn’t the type to care about anybody.
Or maybe he just wasn’t the type to show it….
Now that she’d been away for a while, and grown up some, Katie felt she could read Booker a little better, although it was entirely possible that he was the one who’d changed.
“I gather his father wasn’t very good to him,” she said.
He grimaced. “Bernie Dibbs was a bastard, just like my old man.”
Booker had never talked much about his parents, but from the bits and pieces he’d said and town gossip, Katie knew they’d drunk to excess and fought something terrible while he was growing up. They’d separated and reunited so many times, he’d never known from one day to the next whether their marriage was going to last or whether he’d have a home with either one of them. Only Hatty had stood by him.
“Is your father still alive?” she asked.
“Last I heard.” Turning back, he gathered the boxers he’d left on the bathroom floor, and Katie realized that if she’d been fifteen minutes earlier, she would’ve run into him in his underwear.
“Is he still with your mother?”
“No. They finally split last year.”
“Where do they each live?”
“I don’t care, so long as it’s not here.”
She wanted to ask more about his parents, but it seemed odd to be carrying on this conversation while he was standing in front of her almost naked. He didn’t seem to notice his state of undress, or feel concerned about it if he did, but Katie was having difficulty ignoring it.
“I’ll see you in a while, then,” she said and turned sideways to squeeze past him without touching, which wasn’t easy now that her stomach had grown. She wasn’t this careful to avoid inadvertent physical contact with her other friends. But none of her other friends looked quite so good in a towel.
“WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?” Katie asked as Booker pulled into the parking lot of a large shopping mall.
“We’re getting you some maternity clothes.” He glanced pointedly at her booted feet. “And maybe another pair of shoes.”
Katie was already exhausted. They’d spent the whole day visiting electronics stores, where she’d bought the software she’d decided on. When she’d educated herself on what kind of computer she might be able to buy new, she’d had Booker stop and purchase a local newspaper. Then they’d scoured the used market, trying to get more for her money. Driving house to house had taken time, but they’d come away with a fairly good computer, monitor, printer and scanner for only eleven hundred dollars.
Overall, Katie was incredibly pleased with her purchases, but satellite Internet service didn’t come cheap and, after purchasing the software as well as the computer and everything else, she had only three hundred dollars left, which she thought she should probably save for baby items.
“It’s almost April, so it’s going to warm up soon,” she told him. “I’ll buy some clothes when I get paid for my first Web site.”
“You can’t be comfortable in those tight jeans,” he said.
She wasn’t. Which was why she unbuttoned them every time she got into the truck. Evidently, he’d noticed. “I don’t have to button them. This sweater you lent me hangs low enough to cover the top of my pants, see?”
She regretted drawing his attention when his gaze ranged over her as though he was seeing her for the first time in a long while. She’d gone to Hair and Now and traded haircuts and manicures not four days earlier. But her hair and nails were definitely her only high points. She was bursting out of her clothes, including her bra, and her boots didn’t match what she was wearing. She’d been so attuned to fashion, it hurt to realize how far she’d fallen.
“You can only get by without new clothes for what, maybe another couple weeks?” he said. “You think you’ll be making money by then?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “It all depends on how much business I can drum up.”
“Well, I don’t see the point in waiting. I’ll lend you some money, if you need it.” He got out and waited for her to open her door before hitting the “lock” button on his key ring.
She stuck her head out so he’d be sure to hear her. “Do we really have to do this today?”
His expression conveyed his feelings on the matter.
“All right,” she grumbled, “but if I don’t have the money to buy you that dinner I promised, don’t blame me.”
The mall was crowded. Long lines of people waited to get in to the cinemas at one end, reminding Katie that it was Friday night—and that she hadn’t done anything fun in a really long time.
Booker stopped to check the store directory near the entrance. “See anything?” he asked as she peered at it with him.
“Anna James Designer Maternity looks like the only specialty store they have. But it sounds pricey. Maybe we should check the larger department stores.”
“Let’s see what Anna James has.”
They took the escalator to the second floor and walked the length of one wing until they found a narrow boutique filled with expensive but stylish maternity clothes. Katie riffled through the racks, looking for something she could afford, and found an attractive black wrap shirt with stretch bengaline pants. She held them up for Booker to consider. “What about this outfit?”
“Try it on,” he said.
While she was changing, she could hear Booker and the saleswoman talking as they found more clothes, which Booker kept delivering to her. Surprisingly enough, for a guy who wore mostly jeans and leather, he had better taste in women’s fashions than she ever would’ve guessed.
When she finished tying the wrap shirt over the bengaline pants, she examined her reflection in the mirror and decided they were quite flattering. Stepping out of the dressing room, she waved Booker over. “What do you think?”
The face she thought she was beginning to read quite easily suddenly became shuttered as he looked at her.
“You don’t like it,” she said.