Ordinary Girl, Millionaire Tycoon. Darlene Gardner

that made a person an individual. He’d drawn two people holding hands, and she clearly recognized them as herself and Joey.

      “Miss Jan said to draw the people in my family,” he explained.

      Kaylee forced herself to smile even though the starkness of the picture struck her. There was no Dawn, no Monica, no Aunt Lilly, no Grandpa Paul, no father—and no background. She and Joey existed in a vacuum against a backdrop of stark white. She searched for something positive to say.

      “Is my little boy really this big already?” She tapped the picture he’d drawn of himself. His head was level with her shoulder, the size of a boy twice his age.

      He rolled his eyes and affected a grown-up tone. “I’m already six years old.”

      “Yes, you are.” She smiled tenderly, because he was growing up far too fast. “Mind if I put your picture up on the fridge?”

      He shook his head, and she fastened the drawing to the refrigerator with a colorful magnet he’d painted in art class and given her for Mother’s Day. It joined a gallery that included a yellow dinosaur, a purple puppy and a mystery animal with the body of a dachshund and the head of an eagle.

      “Can I turn on the TV?” Joey asked.

      “Go ahead, honey. But just till dinner.”

      Trying not to sigh, Kaylee took the pack of fish sticks from the freezer and popped eight of the frozen sticks into the oven. Then she set a pot of water to boil and found a box of macaroni and cheese in the lazy Susan.

      Betty Crocker, she was not. But then she’d never paid attention when her mother tried to teach her to cook. She’d never even made a lunch to bring to school. Her mother had done that for her until high school, when she preferred to eat as little as possible and pocket the rest of the money for more important things. Like an occasional joint or the wine and beer she could talk an older friend into buying for her.

      She dumped the macaroni into the boiling water, listening with half an ear to make sure the cartoon Joey had turned on wasn’t geared for adults.

      The irony of her life of responsibility didn’t escape her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smoked a joint, and she barely touched alcohol. She, who’d reveled in the wrong things, was determined to set an example for her son by doing the right ones.

      While she waited for the macaroni to cook, she separated her mail into two stacks. Bills in one, junk mail in another. She was almost through sorting when the phone rang.

      “Kaylee, it’s Lilly.” Her younger sister’s drawling voice, rich with the sound of Texas, came over the line.

      “Lilly!” Younger than Kaylee by six years, Lilly lived at home with their father while finishing her sophomore year at Houston Community College. “How’s college? Are you through with the semester yet?”

      “Almost. It’s exam week, and I can’t wait for it to be over. Do you know how much you have to study in college?”

      Kaylee barely stopped herself from lecturing her sister on the importance of a college education. Lilly was still young enough not to listen to reason, even if it came from somebody with first-hand knowledge of how hard it was to make ends meet without higher education. “What are you going to do this summer?”

      “Same thing I do every summer. Work on my tan while lifeguarding at the community center,” she said. “Listen. I can’t talk long because I’m meeting a friend for dinner, but I wanted to let you know that Dad said you and Joey are welcome here.”

      Kaylee’s jaw tensed. If her father really wanted her and Joey in his house, wouldn’t he have called her back himself? “Did he offer, Lilly? Or did you talk him into it?”

      The pause at the other end of the line was too lengthy to be meaningless. “Don’t be silly, Kaylee. You know Dad. He’s always been there for us.”

      Lilly’s statement wasn’t entirely accurate. Paul Carter was a dependable, hardworking plumber who’d ably supported the family. But he hadn’t cared enough to intercede in the stormy arguments Kaylee had with her mother. Neither had he come after Kaylee when she’d run away to Florida. And he still hadn’t seen his grandson.

      To be fair, her father always sprang for Lilly’s plane ticket when her sister visited them. Lilly relayed that he’d pay for their plane tickets if Kaylee and Joey wanted to visit them in Houston, but Kaylee hadn’t asked and he hadn’t offered himself.

      “Let us know when you’re coming, okay?” Lilly said. “I’ve got to run.”

      Kaylee hung up the phone, more unsure than ever that she and Joey should go to Houston.

      But she had to decide something soon. Her meager savings were dwindling rapidly. Her father would probably help her out, but she hadn’t once asked him for money in six years and didn’t intend to start now. If not for Joey, she’d never have asked if they could stay at his house temporarily.

      She went back to sorting the mail, stopping abruptly when she came across a letter from the Florida Parole Commission. A lump of unease clogged her throat. Not bothering with her letter opener, Kaylee ripped open the envelope, pulled out a single sheet of white paper and read the bad news.

      A hearing had been scheduled that could result in Rusty Collier being granted parole. The hearing was next week.

      Short fingers pulled at her skirt. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

      She stared down at Joey’s dear, little face and tried to think. Even if Rusty did get parole, it didn’t mean he would try to find them. He’d only contacted her twice since Joey had been born, then had given up when she’d asked him to stop calling.

      But the very possibility that he might track them down was one more strike against Houston. Never mind that the terms of Rusty’s parole would prohibit him from leaving Florida.

      “Nothing’s wrong, honey.” She got down on her haunches and looked into his eyes. “But I have a surprise for you.”

      Joey brightened. “M&M’s? A Matchbox car?”

      She smoothed the baby-fine hair back from his forehead. It was an unusual shade. Lighter than brown but darker than blond. On more than one occasion, she’d heard it described as rust-colored. Like the hair of the man who’d fathered him.

      “Not that kind of a surprise. A bigger one. We’re going to have an adventure.”

      “Like Winnie the Pooh?”

      A wave of love swept over her like a warm wind. She nodded, glad that Joey didn’t yet consider the beloved character beneath his new maturity level. “Exactly like that. Is there a story called Winnie the Pooh and the Move?”

      Skepticism replaced the eagerness on Joey’s face. He shook his head.

      “Well, imagine if there were such a story. Imagine if Winnie and Tigger and Christopher Robin moved.”

      “In the Hundred Acre Wood?”

      “No. Somewhere else. Somewhere better.” Ignoring his continued skepticism, she kept on talking. “It’ll be fun. First we’ll pack up everything, and then we’ll get in the car, just you and me. We’ll drive away from Florida and start over someplace else.”

      “When?”

      “Soon. Maybe even the day after tomorrow.”

      Worry lines appeared between his brows. “How ’bout school?”

      Kaylee hadn’t thought of that and did some quick mental calculations. It was mid-May. The last day of school wasn’t even two weeks away. “School’s almost out for the summer, honey. It won’t matter if you finish a couple days early.”

      Although Joey didn’t frown, he didn’t smile, either. “Where?”

      The lush countryside that had charmed her from the television broadcast