A Mommy in Mind. Arlene JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
help regretting the pain that his actions were bound to cause Lori.
“I never thought I’d have to argue to take a child away from a woman whose only fault is in loving that child and wanting to give her a home,” he said softly.
“I hear you,” Zach remarked. “On one hand, the Diaz girl is the baby’s mother, and on the other, Lori just wants to give that baby a home. I’m glad it’s not up to me to decide who wins this one. Frankly, I’m not sure I could do it.”
Privately, Ramon wasn’t sure he could, either.
The waitress stopped by again to ask if Zach wanted to order something to eat.
“I had breakfast with my family this morning.”
His smile turned introspective, almost secretive, and all at once Ramon found himself strangely envious, which wasn’t like him at all. Ramon relished his solitude. Yes, he loved his extended family, and he had a very healthy appreciation for the opposite gender, but his single life was full and satisfying and easy, which was just what his demanding career required.
He asked for the check and dug out his wallet, tossing bills onto the table. The tip was overly generous, but he’d been coming into the Starlight Diner several times a week for years now. When he wasn’t dining out with some client or eating at his mami’s table, he generally took his meals here. It was convenient, comfortable and familiar. Plus, the food was uniformly good. It did, however, on occasion, get kind of old. Maybe that was what lay behind the recurring feeling of…emptiness. As if something was missing from his life. He shook his head.
“What?” Zach asked.
“Just too much work.”
“Well, we’ve got a long weekend coming up.”
Ramon had forgotten about the upcoming holiday weekend. His family always participated in the annual community Labor Day picnic in Winchester Park. This year it would be particularly good to get his mind off work. And Lori Sumner’s beautiful green eyes. Getting quickly to his feet, he prepared to take his leave.
“Guess I’ll see you Monday.”
Zach nodded and hooked an arm over the back of his chair. “Glad to hear it. Now if you’d just promise to turn up at church on Sunday, I could go home and tell my very pregnant and equally emotional wife that I have completed my assignment.”
Ramon arched an eyebrow. “So that’s what this is about. No chance meeting at all.”
Zach lifted a hand. “She’s worried that you might think the two of you are on opposite sides of this custody thing. It would do her a world of good just now if you’d—”
Ramon clapped a hand onto his brother-in-law’s shoulder, squeezing just a bit harder than was absolutely necessary. “You may tell my sister that I will see her on Monday,” he said, “and that if she had a lick of sense in her beautiful head she would stay home on Sunday and put her feet up.”
Zach snorted. “Kindly recall of whom you are speaking.”
Ramon grinned. “You are a good husband. For a gringo.”
“I don’t know about being a good husband. I do know that your sister loves you.”
“And I know that you love her,” Ramon told him softly.
Zach said nothing to that, but he didn’t have to. It was all there in his blue eyes, a serene wealth of emotion that permeated the very air around him with satisfaction and joy. Ramon began to understand just how cold and lonely a mate even a good cause could be.
Chapter Three
Sybil Williams proved to be a thin, well-dressed bundle of nervous energy who seemed younger than she actually was. Shrewd, forthright and honest, she weighed Lori’s chances of retaining custody of Lucia at no more than fifty percent, and only that because Yesenia Diaz was an illegal resident. She expressed surprise that Ramon Estes would involve himself in a custody case, required a modest retainer and encouraged Lori as best she could.
“Estes is a fine attorney,” she said, “but family law is not his specialty. Let me do a little research and get back to you in a few days. I’ll have a better idea then just what we’re dealing with.” She stood and reached across the desk to offer her hand, a clear dismissal. “Until then, try not to worry.”
Lori rose from her chair and took those slender, manicured fingers in her own, painfully aware that fighting Yesenia could cost thousands and thousands of dollars. She would worry about that later, though, trusting God to provide what she would need. It was all up to Him, anyway.
Ten minutes later she stepped out onto the Richmond sidewalk. Heat rose up to meet her from the concrete underfoot and bounced off the glass wall of the high-rise building behind her. She longed suddenly for home, Lucia and the shady streets of Chestnut Grove, but she knew that any respite to be found there was only temporary.
She could hardly believe that she’d just engaged an attorney and was about to join in a legal brawl. And for what? Why? That was the question that continually bedeviled her. For what reason would God put her through this?
Lord, she thought, heading back to work, help me to understand what is happening. I know You have a plan. You must have a plan. When You sent me to Mary and Fred, You had a plan. When You directed me to Chestnut Grove, You had a plan. When You brought Lucia to me, You must have had a plan. There has to be a reason, a purpose, for all this worry and fear. Help me to find it. Please.
Surely that plan could not be for her to lose Lucia. It couldn’t. It simply couldn’t.
Despite the heat, she felt a deep and numbing chill.
Pushing Lucia’s stroller along the walkway beneath the trees, Lori took a deep breath and sighed with pleasure. She loved the summertime with the aromas of freshly mowed grass and burgers grilling over hot coals.
Smiling, she thought of Mary and Fred and cook-outs in the backyard. Along with the burgers and the occasional steak, they’d given her laughter and lazy afternoons and the confidence to be herself, things she knew that she could give to Lucia—if allowed the opportunity.
But she wasn’t going to think of that today. For the next several hours she would take a holiday from worry. And what a glorious day to do it! Of all the holidays, Labor Day must surely offer the most spectacular weather, warm enough for outdoor activities, cool enough to simply bask in the sun.
Sunshine dappled the people and picnic tables scattered across the broad, tree-shaded greensward of Winchester Park. Some people were tossing a Frisbee in an open spot across the way, and two teams played softball on the field on the other side of the little lake at the center of the park. A few booths, decorated with bunting, surrounded one of the larger pavilions near the parking area.
As Lori watched, a large, yellow dog chased a duck into the pond and reemerged to shake water all over a queue of people waiting to rent rowboats. Lori laughed, feeling renewed and at peace. For now.
Movement in the corner of her eye had her turning her head. Kelly Van Zandt, looking cool in slender cropped pants and a fitted, sleeveless top that buttoned up the front over her pregnancy bulge, her multitoned hair caught up in a color-coordinated clip, waved to Lori from the gazebo. She was with a group of people that included her husband, Sandra Lange, Tony Conlon, Ben Cavanaugh and his nine-year-old daughter, Olivia.
Lori waved back and aimed the stroller in that direction. As she drew near, Kelly got up and came to meet her.
“Lori, how are you? I needn’t ask how Lucia is. She’s sleeping the sleep of the blameless, God love her.”
Lori peeked beneath the bonnet of the stroller and smiled to see the baby relaxed in that soft, boneless fashion that denoted deep, blissful slumber, her tiny mouth working an invisible nipple on an imaginary bottle.
“Must be all this fresh air,” Lori said. “That or I rushed her morning nap so we could get out here.”
“She