A Season of Family: Common Threads in the Life, #6

By Ronald L. Donaghe

A Season of Family

Common Threads in the Life Book 6

 

By the time the new millenium dawns, Tom and Joel Allen-Reece have been together for thirty-five years.

 

Their daughter Shara is now twenty-eight years old and, following the near fatal shoting of both her fathers just four months earlier, she has decided to move back to the Common, New Mexico, to be with them. She practically has to give up her potential writing career, and her fathers worry about what esle she might be sacrificing by moving back home; she worries about them. But what none of them can possibly know is what is in store for their family. It will truly be a season of change.

 

Claude Riggs is a wealthy and powerful oil man in North Dakota, and he makes a whirlwind trip home to Minot to handle a situation he finds distasteful—disowning his only son and banishing him to a remote ranch across the width of the United States, as close to the US/Mexico border as he can send him. There, sixteen-year-old Kelvin Riggs must make his own way and either survive or fail. What is in store for Kelvin is something he could never have imagined—a season among the Reece family and their newest addition of a teen runaway named Jared Rory.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ronald L. Donaghe
• Release date: Mar 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201369156

Ronald L. Donaghe

Ronald L. Donaghe is the author of a dozen works of fiction, as well as three biographies,  and a series of interactive workbooks on writing. He has been an editor for over 40 years.

Book preview

Contents

Part One Shara..................................

Chapter 1.....................................

Chapter 2.....................................

Chapter 3.....................................

Chapter 4.....................................

Chapter 5.....................................

Chapter 6.....................................

Part Two Kelvin.................................

Chapter 7.....................................

Chapter 8.....................................

Chapter 9.....................................

Chapter 10....................................

Chapter 11....................................

Chapter 12....................................

Part Three Shara and Anderson.....................

Chapter 13....................................

Chapter 14....................................

Chapter 15....................................

Chapter 16....................................

Part Four Tom and Joel...........................

Chapter 17....................................

Chapter 18....................................

Chapter 19....................................

Chapter 20....................................

Chapter 21....................................

Chapter 22....................................

Chapter 23....................................

Part One

Shara

Chapter 1

Fall 2000

Now that school had started and Jared was not at the coffee shop until around four, Shara had her hands full. She was in the office across the foyer. She had left JJ’s (as people called the coffee shop) in good hands with a part-time barista from the Red Rooster. It was too soon to tell, but Shara thought she and Jared had a success on their hands with their entire business enterprise, with the centerpiece being Jared’s Java Joint. And Shara was trying to concentrate on the other business.

Following a feature article in the Deming Headlight, the area newspaper, local artists from Common, Deming, and even as far away as Lordsburg and Rodeo, had come in to the old school wanting to display their art in what Shara advertised as the art and photo galleries. A group of local musicians, and two from Silver City, already wanted to use the stage and auditorium for a battle of the bands to kick off the school year, parents and music teachers wanted to have piano and other recitals in the auditorium, and teachers wanted to bring their classes through the old school, not only for its history but for the displays of art and sculpture that would eventually fill the galleries in the building. But more important for Shara and her vision of a continuing education program, she had been in contact with various adult groups that wanted to rent classrooms on a month-by-month basis; some wanted to teach the handcraft arts, quilt-making, and other folk-art skills; others wanted to have seminars from visiting experts on succeeding in real estate, investments, tax preparation, and a whole host of adult education for those who did not readily have a place to conduct recurring classes. Two writers groups, one from Deming and the other from Silver City wanted to hold meetings, and several local writers wanted to hold book signings.

Shara did not look askance at any of the art, the self-published and small press books, nor any of the sculptures and other art objects. She was willing to give all comers a chance to display their work and wares, along with the hopeful great American novels, books on local history, and even handmade chapbooks. She would have to see what attracted attention and what gathered dust as the weeks passed. But once again, Jared had casually dropped a true and pithy statement: to be busy you had to look busy. It was true, and the more art and book displays, classes, and activities that they could get into the building would create more displays, classes, and activities.

She couldn’t believe that in all the planning she and Jared had done, they hadn’t come up with a name for the entire enterprise. That was one of the items she deferred for later when Jared would come in from school.

Frank Thurman and his partner Leo Johnson had come by shortly after opening day with a large, open-bed trailer with something quite large covered with a plastic tarpaulin. It turned out to be a table for the conference room, which Frank and Leo had made in Frank’s shop during the same time that he had been renovating the building. Leo presented the gift. Shara could not believe how different Leo looked from the quite nervous young man she had met many years before. Like his contemporaries, Leo had aged into his fifties, filled out from the rather thin frame into someone that was on the verge of being stocky but not fat. Frank’s own masculine sense had taken hold, and Leo now looked less effeminate, which was one of the features of his body language that Shara remembered when she met him when she was a high school student. Now he and Frank dressed alike. They made a smart couple.

Sweetheart, Leo had said, clearing his throat, getting ready to unveil what was under the tarpaulin, Frank and I wanted to do something for you. So we made the conference table. I just hope to Joseph and Mary it fits! And it did. It was made of cherry wood, and when assembled in the conference room, it reminded Shara of her mother’s conference table at her law offices in San Francisco. This of course presented Shara and her fathers with the task of finding equally stunning chairs, which they chose from an online vendor. The credenza and accompanying furniture that dotted the perimeter of the room was also made of cherry wood. Frank had painted the walls a moss green, and Shara had been thrilled to find cherry wood blinds to cover the wall of windows on the north side of the conference room.

The company office, her office, was likewise furnished in cherry wood, dark brown leather chairs, and the walls were painted a tonally related blue to the moss green of the conference room.

It was now mid September, and the afternoon sun glowed brightly without glaring into the room where Shara sat in her swivel chair behind the desk. She was dressed for business and had done so since the opening of the building. She did not like dresses and skirts, but she looked smart in her mauve pants and matching business-cut jacket. To match her clothes, she wore silver earrings set with garnet stones and a pendant of the same set. She had clipped and wore her dark brown hair in a no-nonsense style that she could wash and dry and let go. It had a natural tendency to lightly curl. Her hazel-gray eyes with those like her father Joel, with the striations of blue, were one of her most prominent facial features. She had never been one to severely pluck her eyebrows, and so they framed her eyes in an even more startling way. She eschewed much makeup, but she did, at Jared’s bidding, wear a dark pinkish lipstick (where that kid got all of his ideas, Shara had no idea), and she liked the effect.

She was at work in her office and had been since she had first arrived at seven when she opened the coffee shop and was joined by Karen, from the Red Rooster. Jared had lingered as long as he could before she dropped him off at school and returned.

She had brought her trusty laptop with her, but she had promised Jared that he could pick out an appropriate tower PC to become the main computer for the business.

Unlike the way in which Shara had operated all through school, including her studies in high school, she and Jared had agreed that they would not allow the desk and other surfaces in the office to be filled with paperwork. But she had violated that promise this afternoon, trying to organize the paperwork that had been stacking up since the inception of the project and through their grand opening, and she was determined to get it out of the way before Jared arrived.

There were lease and rental contracts specifically customized to the needs of the various groups and activities that had to be double-checked, filed, or otherwise handled. Over the months in which they had planned, ordered, bought, and geared up for their business, were what appeared to be reams of receipts, file folders to be labeled, and even decisions made as to the filing method. Mrs. Sanders from the public library had given Shara a few pointers about keeping track of seemingly all miscellaneous files that fit neatly nowhere, but were important enough that once filed couldn’t be lost.

"You make collesponding file on computah...okay? Mrs. Saunders had said in her inimitable accent laced with energy. You label same. Tell where is on computah."

And so she was attempting to do just that, handling both the physical files and paper and creating her road map on the computer.

The office door to the grand foyer was open, and when she was about to take a sip of coffee, she caught movement at the open door. She didn’t want to be interrupted, but when Anderson Kretek spoke as he approached the door, Shara was surprised at her response, which was a quickening of her heart rate and heat as she felt color rise in her face. They hadn’t spoken since they first met a few months before.

She rose from behind the desk, fussing with her hair like a nervous widow about to be introduced to an eligible widower. Hello, Anderson, she said meeting him just as he stepped across the tile onto the carpet of the office. As before, Anderson was dressed in a nice polo shirt, this time green, with tan slacks, and brown dress shoes of a plain design. She also noted that while there was not a hair out of place, the cut was casual, professionally done, and she doubted that even if it were windblown it wouldn’t look messy. It was longer than most men in Common wore their hair, which tended toward short, parted, and pasted down beneath their caps.

Please, Shara, call me Andy. Anderson sounds too formal.

Shara stepped back and indicated for Anderson to come into the office. As you can see we’ve opened for business. I was just trying to get all this paperwork put away before the boss gets here.

In the mid-afternoon sunlight filtering through the louvered blinds, which were slightly open, Anderson’s face looked warm and his dark blue eyes regarded her with a slight James Dean type of smirk, Shara thought. She smiled at the thought and her silly response. She attempted to morph her near laughter into a professional sound.

Anderson looked toward the desk, then back at her. "I thought you were the boss. Is there someone I don’t know about?"

Shara laughed. I’m talking about Jared. You met him when you met me.

The kid? A bit of confusion passed over Anderson’s face.

"I think he’s the boss. He’s quick on his feet and he’s always two steps ahead of me in what might work for this major project. If he’s not my boss, he is surely my right-hand man."

Anderson smiled warmly, nodded, and then turned back to Shara with a more serious expression. I came by hoping you’d agree to have dinner with me. I’ve been out of town, well...back where I came from and in Deming, settling my parents into the facility, and I was rude not to ask you sooner.

It was Shara’s turn to be confused, but also a bit flustered, which was not like her at all. No need to explain, Anderso...Andy. Launching our business and putting out small fires has kept me from thinking about anything but this place. She had already decided to accept his dinner invitation. When did you have in mind?

I was hoping tonight, Anderson said, his smile growing brighter.

Shara cast a glance toward the desk, where a square clock face in a silver frame glinted light from the lamp on the desk. I’ll have to stick around until at least six, because Jared and I need to talk about this filing system, which has me flummoxed and I’m sure he already has a system in mind for all this. Can I meet you...ah...where? What time?

Six is fine. Do you mind if I stick around? I promise I won’t interfere with you and your boss.

They both laughed. Shara was glad that she was dressed for dinner and wouldn’t have to worry no matter where they went. Unless they were headed to the Dome Grill in El Paso, Texas, over ninety miles away, casual dress would do.

But won’t you be bored? Shara asked. What will you do with yourself for the next couple of hours?

Anderson glanced across the foyer into the brightly lit and busy coffee shop. I’d love to look around the building. I promise I won’t steal anything, and I already see some people in the coffee shop I should reacquaint myself with.

Shara was delighted that Anderson was going to be close by. She quickly admitted to herself that she was attracted to him in a way she had not been to any man for almost as long as she could remember. She had dated with a sense of obligation to her mother’s wishes, while she was in San Francisco, but no one in that sophisticated and worldly city had had quite the effect that Anderson had on her from the moment she laid eyes on him. She tried to subdue her reaction to his proximity, close enough that she could feel his body heat.

Well, then, if you’re sure you can keep from making a nuisance of yourself for a couple of hours... Shara said, trailing off. I know that Jared will keep himself busy while I’m at dinner. But I have to make sure that he’s home and ready for bed by ten.

This time Anderson couldn’t help but laugh aloud. Now you sound like his mother.

Shara smiled. You have no idea, she said. Jared does bring that out in me, I must admit, along with quite a few other reactions. He’s been with us now for almost nine months, and he’s got everyone at the farm charmed, as well as his classmates, the little old ladies, and I have to say a few of the boys, as well.

Once again, as she had when they first met, Shara noticed a slight look cross Anderson’s face that was tinted with disapproval. It was quickly gone, though Shara realized that this time like the last it was caused when she indicated those like her two fathers.

With that realization, Shara decided that she was going to explore Anderson’s reactions to that subject a little more in depth at dinner. She hoped he would not disappoint her with some provincial and outdated notion about homosexuality.

Anderson turned to leave, but Shara followed him out into the foyer. I can show you around the building if you’d like, or I can leave you to your own devices. She hadn’t planned on offering the tour, and so she surprised herself at how her mouth overrode her intentions.

I’d be delighted, Shara, Anderson said, and then you can deposit me in JJ’s while you and Jared work.

WHEN SCHOOL LET OUT at 3:30 at Deming High, Jared made his way through the crowded and noisy hallway on his way to his locker. All he could think about during the latter half of the day was getting back to the coffee shop. He had enjoyed the short time before school started getting the business opened and meeting all the people that came through the doors, mainly to get a look at the new business in town. For a town as small as Common news traveled fast, and the flyers they had distributed around town and in Deming had only confirmed the rumors that preceded the flyer about something going on at the old school building. Droves of people had shown up, which surprised and delighted Jared. He had talked about getting the processes down when they were hit with several customers at once, and he could see after only a few weeks that one person couldn’t handle the job of running the coffee shop from a seven a.m. opening to a nine p.m. closing. He walked through the halls, one of the taller students, and he could look out over the river of students moving through the hallways.

He didn’t want to be detained from his goal, and when he saw a group of girls he had gotten acquainted with early in the semester, gathered around a set of lockers, he wanted to shrink down to a less towering height. The girls’ leader was Nancy Tracy, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty on the cheerleading squad, but she was also smart as a whip. He had tested himself on her attractiveness when they first met. Would I want to date her? he had wondered at the time, and so to find out, he got involved in a conversation with her, and then expanded the conversation to include her girl friends. He was glad to see that Nancy did not surround herself with necessarily hot bods, and he appreciated that she was just plain nice, despite holding the coveted position as cheerleader. But later on, when he also talked with her in accounting class, seeing that she was very quick to catch on to the subject and that they could work together outside of class, he began to feel uncomfortable around her.

Yes, he thought she was pretty. Yes, he supposed he could have asked her out on a date, but there was just something a bit cloying in her frequent touches to his forearms, the way she scooted her chair closer to his in the library and leaned forward when they were both studying the same spreadsheets from their homework assignments—such closeness and instant familiarity made him uncomfortable. She had ample breasts for a sophomore; she smelled nice; her teeth were brilliant and well formed when she smiled. But as the semester had progressed, Jared could swear that she stayed on the lookout for him between classes. Several times someone had grabbed his arm in the hallway, and he knew it was she, as she had been preceded with her perfume—a distinct flowery aroma, mixed with the clean smell of Zest soap.

She had begun strongly hinting that they should date, and thus far, he had used the excuse that he was busy at his coffee shop, didn’t have a driver’s license, and lived way out of town.

She was undeterred. My dad can pick you up, drop us off...wherever...and then take you home, she had said.

All he could think of for several weeks was to promise that he would think about it, look for an opening when his nights weren’t busy. It had worked thus far, but he was running out of excuses. And he had come to a conclusion: he was afraid of the instant intimacy that a date with her promised to be. In his entire life, he had only kissed one person and that was JP. He wasn’t sure he wanted the complication, just yet, of making out and possibly doing more intimate things with a girl.

When he got a glimpse at the mounds of her breasts, a look at their creamy-smooth appearance, he figured they would be nice to lay his cheek against, but the thought didn’t translate into a corresponding feeling down there, and so he tried to avoid her as much as he could, feeling that he might end up leading her on, hurting her feelings if he rejected her sweet advances on a date. He figured if he was going to date a girl to test his feelings against, he wanted to take it much, much slower than what Nancy promised they might end up doing on a first or second date. And despite the fact that week-by-week Jared felt more and more socially experienced, he was not yet ready to become intimate too fast. He successfully avoided detection as he passed by Nancy and her friends, switched books at his locker, and made his way toward the double doors at the east end of the school building. Jared was already thinking about how they could handle another couple of people at the coffee shop. It was also obvious to Jared that Shara would be tied to the building more hours a day than she should be, so he was concentrating on that as he walked down the hall. He made it through the double doors with dozens of other students; this was where the buses would be loaded, and on some days, of course, Jared would head for the farm on a bus. But not today, and probably not for a few more weeks, since he would go directly to the coffee shop, getting in as many hours as he could before he had to leave for home.

A few guys nodded as he moved outside. But Jared didn’t want to stop and get involved in conversation with them, either. It did strike him, as it had several times, that he actually fit in to the milieu of students at Deming High, and he was gaining self-confidence by the week. He no longer looked around as he had in Animas, trying to avoid certain groups of guys, and slinking his way home to the trailer park and the safety with his Granny Mack.

His lifelong poverty and the great potential he felt growing within, here in this town, made him want to stay focused on his coffee shop. Dating would come later, and he figured that he would probably attend a few of the high school functions, but he couldn’t afford the time to get involved in extracurricular activities—yet.

He had a few acquaintances with whom he ate lunch, but thus far this semester he had stayed to himself out of choice. He had befriended one boy who reminded Jared a lot of himself when they first met. His name was Raul Lopez, and he was just about the shortest boy in any of Jared’s classes. It reminded Jared of his prepubescent self not more than a year ago. He and Raul were assigned to the same lab table in biology class and they had struck up an instant friendship. But Raul’s stature was about the only thing that he and the old Jared had in common. Raul was a quick-witted, smart-mouthed kid who poured on the Mexican accent when he was in a group of guys. Jared admired the way Raul could see trouble coming and head it off with some funny remark or insult that might leave the aggressive guys disarmed, confused, laughing, or otherwise completely unfocused.

But guys seemed to like him, and Raul was athletic enough, short or not, that he could climb onto the back of a big, hefty football jock and ride him like a horse, which left the jock trying to buck Raul off and which eventually caused the jock to collapse in a heap of laughter.

What most guys didn’t really know about Raul was that he was even smarter than he was quick-witted.

Raul was the kind of guy, in fact, who would always be shorter than his date. He had the darker skin tones of a Mexican, "a mestizo, he had explained to Jared when they first met. True Mexicans are not just of Spanish descent. I am of a mixed race, of Indian blood, as well," he explained proudly of his ancestry, and he had black hair like Jared’s but also dark brown eyes. His was an intelligent face, but what kept him from being good looking was a rather prominent nose and high cheekbones. His chin was pointed and little.

Some students might have thought that Jared’s choice in a friend was an odd one, considering that after the summer, when Jared entered high school for his sophomore year, his growth and good looks had simply electrified the students. Jared had noticed this and with his acumen for reading subtle signals, gained from his home-life with his transgendered grandmother and a lifetime of studying other boys’ behaviors, Jared realized that he was going to have a great number of friends. But there was just something much more fascinating about Raul that Jared wanted to get to know. He was meeting him just outside the school building, and Raul was going to give him a ride to Common and the coffee shop.

Raul came from a large family, one generation from immigrants from Mexico, and everyone in the family worked as much as possible to make ends meet. Raul was the youngest of ten children. He drove a nineteen-eighties model Ford Ranger, and he worked in a garage on the edge of Common, near the truck stop that Jared had come to in December of last year when he ran away from Cotton City.

Jared met Raul, and they walked around the building to the student parking lot. Raul was already changed into his gray overalls for the garage, but they were clean and pressed, despite being a little worn. He was wearing beat up but serviceable work shoes, and his hair was slicked back, and stuffed under a billed cap with the letters A&P on the crown.

How do you do that, Raul?

"Do what, Señior Jarrod?" Raul said, craning his neck to look up at his friend as they walked.

Jared laughed at Raul’s silly accent, already in the mood, it seemed, to tease him. Change so darn fast out of your school clothes.

Raul pulled at the bib of his overalls, to reveal his shirt beneath. "Ju crassy gringo. Deez overalls slip on over my clothes."

Jared rolled his eyes. A moment later they were stepping into the pickup, and Raul started the engine. It purred into life, a testament to Raul’s mechanic skills, but also his care for his vehicle. It was spotless, and rolled up at Jared’s feet on the floorboard was a plastic sheet that Raul would place on the seat when he got off work, to avoid getting any grease on the leather.

The boys talked on the way to the coffee shop, and Jared told him he appreciated the ride. I won’t make a habit of it, though. Shara was just busy today.

That’s okay, Jared, Raul said, but you should think about getting a car for yourself. Doesn’t have to be one of the expensive new ones like the Reeces drive. I could help you pick one out and be your mechanic.

That gave Jared something to think about. If he did decide to buy a car or a pickup, he knew that if Raul were the mechanic, it would benefit Raul to do the maintenance on it.

Good idea, Jared said. But I should get my license first. He was still a month away from finishing his driver’s education class that he had enrolled in at the beginning of the semester.

Raul just laughed, snorting through his prominent nose. "Jesss, de licensio es nessesario."

Jared laughed at his friend. Raul was prone to lapse into an exaggerated Mexican accent, which, instead of showing him to be an uneducated Hispanic from Mexico, had the effect of showing how someone had just stated the obvious, said something stupid, or revealed their ignorance on a topic.

When Raul pulled up at the curb at the old high school, the boys shook hands and Jared stepped out of the pickup with anticipation and turned toward the school. It was a sunny afternoon, but the air was nice and cool in comparison to mid summer. He felt invigorated as he took a look at the cars in the parking lot. There weren’t many, but enough that he knew there was activity inside, and he hoped that the coffee shop was the focal point for the visitors.

Almost as an afterthought, Jared had suggested that they plant a couple of trees on either side of the entrance to the building. It needs to be softened a little, now that it’s not a school, and people need to see that it’s again a live place. He had suggested this to Shara one day, just before they opened, and the next day Shara had made it so by calling a landscaping company. She not only had the largest trees the landscaping business could find, she had also had them put in grass. The green against the orange-blond bricks of the building shimmered in the mid-September sunlight. The sky was a crystal-clear blue, and as Jared walked the last few steps to the building on the newly widened sidewalk, he was smiling both inwardly and on the outside.

He didn’t expect to see Shara in the coffee shop, but he caught a glimpse of her at a table next to the glass wall just inside the door, laughing and animated, sitting with that guy they had met a few weeks before. He turned left and took his schoolbooks and backpack into the office. He was surprised to see the desk piled high with paperwork, and more than ever it struck him that he didn’t want Shara to be tied to their business enterprise so much that she was stuck plowing through what looked like every scrap of paper, receipt, and supply catalog they had accumulated over the past few months.

Frank Thurman had wisely insisted on remodeling the half bath that let off the main office and had worked in a large closet where Jared and Shara kept a change of clothes and other personal items. Jared slipped into the bathroom and changed out of his school clothes, which at this time of year consisted of jeans and a sports shirt, which Jared liked to keep tucked into the waist like his Uncle Henry. They had decided that Jared should have a kind of uniform for the coffee shop, and Cindy at the Red Rooster had suggested something simple, bright, and as non-uniform-looking as they could get and still fit the role. The shirt was a bright red with the logo of Jared’s Java Joint above the pocket, and he wore black twill slacks. Jared had come up with the idea of a silly soda jerk hat like they had worn in the fifties, a gleaming white rectangle that opened front to back and slipped onto his head like an overturned boat.

When they had first got the hat, this time from a company that specialized in fast-food supplies, Jared paraded around in the coffee shop in front of Shara and Granny Eva, keeping them laughing at his display. Shara later told Jared that he could wear anything and he would still look cute. Jared felt himself blushing, but he was getting used to the compliments.

SHARA SAW JARED PASS by the window and head directly into the office. He was walking at a fast clip, as he usually did, and she nodded at Anderson. My boss is here, she teased. Looks like I’ll have to leave you to entertain yourself in a couple of minutes.

Anderson had also seen Jared come into the building, and he watched as, a few minutes later, Jared emerged from the office in a red shirt, black slacks, and shiny black shoes. You’re right about him, Shara, he said. He has to be one of the best-looking kids I’ve ever seen.

Shara smiled to herself thinking that even Anderson was not immune to Jared’s striking beauty.

And so when Jared came into the coffee shop, smiling and scanning the room, where a few customers lingered over their treats, Shara waved him over and he sat down on the edge of a chair, apparently ready to spring into action, as soon as she released him.

You remember Anderson Kretek, Shara said, nodding at Anderson.

"Pleased