In a Family Way Read online

  In a Family Way

  Book I of

  “The Commitment” Series

  BLUE FEATHER BOOKS, LTD.

  Mr. Webster defines the word “matriarch” as “a mother who is head and ruler of her family and descendants.” I dedicate this book to the matriarch of my family—my mom, Ellie Atherton. To say my mom is our family’s matriarch is putting it mildly. She sacrificed everything for us. As a single mother in the 1960s, she raised five children nearly single-handedly with very little money, but a with a treasure chest of love. Anyone who can handle five teenagers at the same time is a saint in my eyes. She is the bond that holds our family together to this very day. Her fighting spirit has been inherited by her five children, fifteen grandchildren, and at the time of this writing, five great-grandchildren (and one more on the way). This book is about family and commitment. My mom embodies the true meaning of family. Her strength and perseverance through hard times was an inspiration to me. No matter how dire our circumstances, she held her head high with pride and never wavered in her commitment to give us the best life possible. She is the yardstick against which I measure myself as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend. She inspired me never to walk away from a challenge. She made me believe I could do anything I set my mind to. I only hope that someday, I am half the woman she is. I love you, Mom. You are my hero. This book is for you.

  ALSO WRITTEN BY KAREN D. BADGER AND

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  In a Family Way

  A BLUE FEATHER BOOK

  by

  Karen D. Badger

  NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.” This is a work of fiction. All characters, locales and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  IN A FAMILY WAY: BOOK I OF “THE COMMITMENT” SERIES

  Copyright © 2010 by Karen D. Badger

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, save for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.

  Cover drawing by Kyren L. Badger, age 5.

  Cover design by Ann Phillips

  A Blue Feather Book

  Published by Blue Feather Books, Ltd.

  133 Merck Rd

  Cleveland, GA 30527

  www.bluefeatherbooks.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9822858-6-2

  First edition: March, 2010

  Printed in the United States of America and in the United Kingdom

  Acknowledgements

  I wrote this book more than ten years ago as an online series of stories. I knew that revising and editing them would be a huge undertaking. I never imagined, when I started this process, that I would go through three editors before the book was ready for publication. I must confess that for a while, I thought this book had very bad Juju. It reminded me of that big Venus flytrap in Little Shop of Horrors because it kept making my editors disappear.

  Joan Opyr provided initial feedback before Miss Venus gobbled her up. Then Jane Vollbrecht put me through five months of hell and rewrites before it bit her on the wrist. Fortunately, we managed to polish the first half of the book to spit-shine perfection, and in the process, I learned a thing or two-thousand about writing… so much so, I was able to clean up the second half of the book well enough that Nann Dunne was able to escape Ms. Flytrap’s grasp altogether.

  Nann—I said a prayer for you each evening to keep you safe from the infamous Ms. V. I’m glad to see it worked. Each of you contributed to the final product, but I can’t thank Jane and Nann enough for your patience, dedication and diligence that finally brought this book to publication… a little later than I wanted, but much better for the effort. Thank you, fine ladies (sorry, Jane) for all your hard work.

  Thank you Emily for insisting over and over that this book will get out! You never once gave up on me, even when I was close to giving up on myself. You are the best. Thank you for being my publisher and my friend. I’m crossing all my fingers and toes that the next book in this series has a much smoother ride.

  Each time I pick up this book, the cover brings tears of pride to my eyes. Many, many thanks to my five-year-old grandson Kyren for providing the cover art. You did a super job, Ky! Nona loves you very, very much. Way to go, Bubba-Dude!

  Last, but certainly not least, I would like to thank my partner, Bliss, for being my rock. She was my sounding board for ideas and kept things in perspective while I ranted and raged about how blunt Jane was being. She spent many evenings unscrewing me from the ceiling, encouraging me to keep working at it and reminding me that Jane had my best interests at heart. Little did I know at the time that she was also providing support and encouragement to Jane who was in the unenviable position of having to provide an education on editing to a good friend. No worries, Jane—I know now that it was for my own good. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am sincerely grateful that you were so tough on me. I really did learn a lot.

  Anyway, thank you, B. I love you and I appreciate you. How’d I get so lucky to have found you? Turnabout is fair play though… its my turn to alternately encourage you and kick your butt to get your book finished.

  Part I:

  The Commitment

  Chapter 1

  “Damn construction!” Billie inched forward in a long line of traffic backed up on I-90 just short of the Albany, New York, cloverleaf. She glanced at her watch. Four forty-five p.m. “Great.

  I’m going to be late again. I’ll be lucky if they don’t fire my ass this time.” Billie ran her fingers through her long, dark hair and fought the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I’m being pulled in a hundred directions at once… my paralegal job, my second job at the gym… and Seth. I don’t have enough energy for all this. And now I’m talking to myself.”

  She cursed. “Come on, damn it.” At last traffic began to move.

  “It’s about time.” She spent the rest of her drive to the gym remembering the events that had thrown her life into chaos.

  On the last day of kindergarten, a car hit her son, Seth, as it illegally passed the school bus he’d just exited. He didn’t have a chance. The impact threw him twenty feet into the air, and he landed on his head. He was rushed to the hospital where a team of trauma specialists worked on him for hours. The doctors said it was a miracle he hadn’t died at the scene. A few days later, he had emergency surgery to drill a hole into his skull to relieve pressure on his brain. That was six months ago. He’d been in a coma ever since. What should have been the joyous start of summer vacation transformed into a traumatic turning point in their lives.

  Seth’s accident changed nearly every facet of Billie’s life. Her days were filled with work; first her job at the law firm and then her early evening stints teaching aerobics. She spent the rest of each evening at the hospital, where she held Seth’s hand and talked to him for hours. Even though he was unresponsive, she read to him and smoothed his hair. When visiting hours ended, she drove home and fell, exhausted, into bed.

  Every day at the hospital presented a challenge. Billie stared at Seth’s face and hoped for a glimmer of recognition, but day after 2

  3

  day she was greeted with nothing more than an occasional facial twitch. Still, she held out hope and believed her vibrant six-year-old son wasn’t doomed to spend the rest of his life in a vegetative state.

  Desp
ite the doctors’ dismal prognosis, she was sure he was still in there. They strongly encouraged her to place him in an institution, but she refused. She couldn’t do that to him. It felt like giving up. In a nursing home, the doctors would make no effort to help him. He’d be discarded, forgotten. As long as she could afford to keep him in the long-term care facility at the hospital, she would.

  Which was why she was hurrying to the gym to work her second job. She hated stealing the time away from Seth’s bedside, but she needed extra income to pay for the portion of his long-term care her family insurance plan didn’t cover.

  Billie had high hopes that Seth was on the road to recovery.

  She thought he’d moved his little finger while she sat with him the previous night. She summoned the on-call doctor, but unfortunately, Seth didn’t do it again. She hoped to coax another response from him at tonight’s visit. She sighed deeply, and the December air seemed even chillier.

  She arrived at the gym and rushed to change into her leotard.

  As she dressed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She’d lost weight due to the constant stress, and her face betrayed her chronic exhaustion. “You look like hell, Charland,” she said to her image. “After Seth is well, you need to take better care of yourself.”

  Billie entered the aerobics room and counted a dozen of her regulars there. She mumbled an apology for her tardiness as she slipped a workout CD in the stereo and took her position at the front of the class. Her students began to stretch and warm up. Billie tied back her hair and kicked off the dance routine with some mildly taxing moves.

  About ten minutes into the warm-up, someone opened the door.

  “Class has already started,” Billie shouted above the music. “You’ll be better off to come back on time tomorrow.” Billie gave the newcomer her most intimidating look, but the new student appeared unfazed and joined the class anyway. Billie took advantage of the mirrors at the front of the room to study the persistent imp. She was a slight woman, whose height put her at chin-level to Billie. She had long, red-gold hair and a well-toned body. Billie studied her face and saw the most startling emerald green eyes she’d ever seen . My God, I wonder if she knows how stunning she is?

  Suddenly, the new arrival fell flat on her face.

  4

  “I’m all right,” she said as she held out her hand to ward off others who rushed over to help. “It happens all the time.” She scrambled to her feet and tried to fall back into step with the rest of the class. Billie cut the music and ended the warm-up early.

  As the class took a short breather and water break, Billie walked over to the woman and touched her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re all right? You know, you should’ve stretched first. You can hurt yourself if you don’t warm up.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry I was late,” she said. “I had to stay at work—again. My free time seems to be shrinking.” Billie chuckled and extended her hand. “I know exactly how you feel. By the way, I’m Billie Charland.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Caitlain O’Grady. Cat for short.” Billie felt a spark pass between them as her hand enveloped Cat’s. “Welcome to my aerobics class, Cat. I’d love to chat, but I’ve got to get the class moving again before we lose our momentum.” Billie walked back to the front of the class, selected the next track, and pressed Play on the stereo.

  “Let’s get started. We have a new member tonight, so we’ll spend a little time with basic steps before we do our regular workout.” Billie ran the class through the fundamentals that would be used in the dance routines. She kept a close eye on how Cat handled the footwork. Billie grimaced inwardly. Cat was totally uncoordinated. She should’ve known there’d be a flaw in that beautiful package somewhere.

  Billie led the class through the regular workout and carefully watched Cat in the mirrors. Had it not been for the real possibility of injury, Cat’s performance would’ve been laughable. It was almost painful to watch as she bumped into the other students and tripped over her own feet. Finally, the class was over. Billie stopped Cat on her way to the door.

  Cat wiped the sweat from her brow. “I’m hopeless, right?”

  “I wouldn’t say hopeless,” Billie lied.

  “You’re too kind. I’ve always had two left feet. I hoped aerobics would help me learn a little coordination. I guess I shouldn’t waste my time or yours, huh?” Cat looked at the floor.

  “Don’t sell yourself short. All it takes is time and practice.

  Don’t give up on yourself after only one class.”

  “You wouldn’t be interested in giving private lessons, would you?” Cat asked. “I’d be willing to pay for them.” 5

  Billie wasn’t sure whether it was a sincere inquiry or asked only in jest. “Private lessons?” Serious question or not, the idea intrigued Billie, but the part of her brain that dealt with everyday realities knew her life was already overloaded and she wondered where she would find time for Cat’s training.

  She really didn’t want to say no. She considered Cat’s offer and made one of her own. “ What are your mornings like? My real job starts at eight. Maybe we can meet for an hour before we go to work.”

  “Mornings would be great. What time?”

  “How does six sound? We can meet right here at the gym.”

  “Six is fine. When can we start?”

  “No sense putting it off. Why not tomorrow?”

  “Terrific.” Cat picked up her towel and water bottle. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She took two steps toward the door. “I’ll bring coffee. How do you drink it?”

  “Black and strong.”

  “Somehow I knew you’d say that.” Cat waved her hand in the air without looking back.

  Billie watched her go and thought about the commitment she’d made. “Like I have time for another obligation,” Billie said to the empty room. She gathered her gear and pondered what on earth had prompted her to agree to Cat’s offer.

  * * *

  The next morning, Billie woke with a feeling of happy anticipation, and it both frightened and pleased her. It amazed her how helping a new student become more agile created such excitement . Or was it because the new student was Cat?

  Billie arrived at the gym bright and early. She removed the top of her Tae Kwon Do uniform and stood in front of the mirrors in her black muscle T-shirt. She stared at her reflection. Most folks call this kind of shirt a “wife beater,” she mused . How appropriate, given what I endured from Brian.

  Two years in therapy had taught her how she enabled his violence. Every day, she congratulated herself for realizing the only way to take his power away was to leave him. Looking back, she knew it was the right decision, both for her and for Seth.

  Oblivious to everything but the need to celebrate her freedom, Billie began her warm-up drills.

  6

  Cat slipped into the room and sat in the corner to watch Billie run through her routine. The loose fabric of her karate gi snapped as she kicked out with her bare feet at her invisible opponent. Her black hair flowed around her shoulders but was tinged with sweat along the hairline. Billie’s well-toned muscles rippled as her arms circled in defensive moves. Her eyes were closed and her face frozen in a mask of total concentration as she made her way around the room, apparently by instinct.

  A short time later, she stopped and stood at attention, feet together and arms at her side, as she bowed slightly from the waist to pay homage to her invisible master.

  As she emerged from her trance, she opened her eyes. Cat’s and Billie’s gazes locked on one another.

  Cat broke the spell, yelling when she spilled the coffee she was holding.

  “Damn it.” She danced around to shake the hot liquid from her leg. “I’m the clumsiest person on the planet.” Billie grabbed her towel and wiped off the hot coffee. “Come sit over here and let me take a look at that.” She led Cat to a chair.

  “I have some salve in my gym bag if you need it.” She took the coffee from Cat and put it on a
table. Lifting the lower edge of Cat’s spandex gym shorts, she examined the scalded area.

  “It looks a little pink, but I don’t think it’s burned. You’ll be good as new in no time.”

  “Thanks.” Cat pulled the leg of her shorts back down. “And thanks for making time for these lessons. I hope I’m not taking you away from anything... or anyone.”

  Billie toyed with the idea of telling Cat about Seth but, instead, put on her shoes and made her way toward the sound system. She stood with her back to Cat as she felt the blush rise to her cheeks.

  “Happy to do it. If you’re ready, let’s get started.” Billie dared not look directly at Cat. She knew her face was as pink as Cat’s leg.

  Cat stripped off her sweatshirt. She was wearing an abbreviated spandex sports bra. The bra, combined with the shorts that hugged her well-toned legs and exposed her abdomen, left nothing to the imagination.

  Billie’s breath caught in her throat. She’d seen dozens—no, make that hundreds—of good-looking women in skimpy sportswear. Why the hell was this one making it impossible for her to breathe?

  7

  Billie pushed Play on the stereo. As the music began, she fell into her typical warm-up routine. Cat tried to follow her every move but failed miserably. Billie put a stop to it after about ten minutes of struggling to keep Cat in step.

  “Cat, this approach doesn’t work for you. We need to try something else.” Billie saw Cat’s forlorn expression in the mirror.