Counting Miracles

Chapter Six

I

After finishing up at Our Daily Bread, Tanner went to Bill’s Body Shop. Because it was only a mile and a half away, he decided to walk, even though one of the volunteers, Trudy, offered to drop him off. A bit of fresh air would do him good, and the day had warmed up nicely, bringing with it memories. One of the things he’d most enjoyed about his time in North Carolina at Fort Bragg had been the weather—months of blue skies and perfect temperatures during the spring and fall.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he started off, his pace neither hurried nor slow. Earlier in the day he’d spent half an hour on the phone with a woman who worked at Revology. As he’d anticipated, she had strongly recommended that the company provide the necessary parts, instead of having them procured through the aftermarket. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make any promises as to how long it would take. Some might be in stock while others might have to be ordered. He wasn’t thrilled that his car might take weeks to repair, but he reminded himself that his schedule was his own, at least for a while.

In any case, Asheboro was proving to be more interesting than expected. Or, rather, Kaitlyn interested him in a way that few other women had. The night before, he’d tossed and turned for nearly an hour because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. In the morning, as soon as he’d opened his eyes, images of her came back, and he knew with certainty that he wanted to seeher again.

His decision to volunteer at Our Daily Bread had nonetheless been a tricky one. He’d wondered how Kaitlyn would feel about his showing up unannounced—was it presumptuous; was it even a bit creepy? Still, he’d decided to risk it. He hadn’t been lying when he told Kaitlyn that her father’s philosophy had inspired him, and he’d told himself beforehand that if he sensed that she was even slightly bothered by his presence, he’d simply keep his distance while volunteering, and afterward, back off entirely.

That was easier said than done, however, if only because the crew of regular volunteers—Trudy, Lisa, Margaret, and Linda, among others—peppered him with questions from the moment he arrived. While at first their inquiries betrayed nothing more than general curiosity, their interest became pronounced when they learned he’d heard about Our Daily Bread from Kaitlyn. One by one, it was as if little lightbulbs above their heads were illuminated and they began sharing knowing looks among themselves . Kaitlyn, he was certain, had noticed those looks as soon as she arrived. He’d forgotten how gossipy small towns could be.

To his relief, she hadn’t struck him as angry or upset when she first spotted him in the kitchen. She did look a little thrown, however, and in that moment, he realized he should have—at the very least—alerted her ahead of time via text. Why hadn’t he? he wondered in retrospect.

Because he hadn’t wanted to risk her telling him not to come .

He shook his head, wondering what had gotten into him.

As he strolled the quiet streets of Asheboro, he pondered her response to his dinner invitation. It hadn’t exactly been a no, but it hadn’t been a yes either. He understood her reluctance, but even so, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, calling to mind her startling beauty or the profound kindness she radiated. Or that her smile was so genuine and sunny it was difficult to imagine she’d ever shed a tear. It was clear that she was an outstanding mother—observing her interactions with Mitch made that obvious—and he flashed on his first impression of her standing on the porch the night of the accident. This woman has a story to tell, he remembered thinking, and he admitted that the last couple of days had only sharpened his desire to hear even more of it.

II

By the time Tanner reached Bill’s Body Shop, the insurance adjuster was already taking more photos of the car while the owner and other employees gathered around, mumbling statements like “It’s a damn shame, that’s for sure.”

Tanner introduced himself, and for the next twenty minutes, the adjuster and the owner went over the paperwork and discussed what needed to be done. Tanner provided contact information for Revology; the owner in turn promised to figure out the parts he’d need to order in a day or two. On the plus side, he said, the frame wasn’t bent, which would make the repairs that much easier.

Toward the end, the insurance adjuster removed a set of keys he’d attached to his clipboard and motioned toward a relatively new silver Chevrolet Impala parked out front.

“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” he said to Tanner, “but it’ll get you from here to there.”

Tanner completed the rental forms, signed on the dotted line. Firing up the engine felt anticlimactic compared to his own car, but the Impala handled relatively well. Thinking he needed a bite to eat, he parked near the entrance of a local sub shop.

Bringing his sandwich and bottle of water to a table near the front window, he checked his phone. There wasn’t a message from Kaitlyn yet. No matter. He unwrapped his sandwich and had taken a couple of bites when the door to the shop swung open. Three teenage girls strolled in, chattering loudly as they approached the counter. Recognition dawned a moment later.

One of them was Casey.

She looked different than she had on the night of the accident. Without mascara running down her face, she looked older and her resemblance to Kaitlyn was noticeable. She had the same dark hair and dark eyes and he was willing to bet that pretty much every guy at her high school thought she was beautiful.

He watched as she turned to one of her friends and whispered something; when the girl turned in his direction, her eyes widening, Tanner recognized her from the night of the accident as well. The blond friend, he thought, the one who’d chastised him for scaring Josh. He watched Casey as she mouthed the words Give me a few minutes.

Casey marched toward him; he watched with curiosity as she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, resting her elbows on the table. Tanner slowly lowered his sandwich, smiled, and said, “Hey, there.”

“So you decided to go out with my mom, huh?”

He was amused by her moxie. “We went to the zoo, if that’s what you’re asking.” He leaned back in his chair, wiping his hands on a paper napkin.

“What’s that all about?”

He fixed her with a quizzical look. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”

“I’m asking why you took my mom out.”

He reached for his bottle of water and twisted open the cap. “Technically, I didn’t take her out. She picked me up from the hotel. As to the why, spending time at the zoo seemed like a nice way to pass a few hours on a Sunday afternoon.”

“It was all about the zoo, then? Is that what you’re telling me?”

He raised an eyebrow, suddenly understanding why Kaitlyn often had her hands full with this one.

“Going to the zoo was something I planned to do, even before I arrived here. And when I heard your mom and Mitch were going, I asked to come along.”

Her narrowed eyes remained focused on him. “Are you going to go out with her again?”

He admired her protectiveness toward Kaitlyn. “I don’t know. I asked her to dinner, but she hasn’t answered yet.”

“I knew it,” she said. He watched as she expelled a breath. “I could tell by the way you were looking at her after the accident that you thought she was pretty.”

He took another long sip from his water bottle. “Am I allowed to ask a question now?”

“I guess.”

“Does it bother you? Because I’m getting the sense you don’t approve.”

“I don’t know you well enough to approve or not,” she said. “So let’s start with that. What’s your story?”

He raised an eyebrow, realizing that he liked her. He gave her a quick rundown, similar to what he’d shared with Kaitlyn. When he finished, she reached for her soda. “You’re one of those guys, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve never been married. But you’ve dated, right?”

“I have.”

“What’s been your longest relationship?”

Oh my, he thought. But again, because she’d had the courage to ask, he answered.

“A year or so.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said.

“You make it sound like it’s a problem.”

“Well is it? If you were me, and it was your mom? And some stranger, who’s never had a long relationship and doesn’t plan on sticking around, rolls into town?”

For the first time, he wasn’t sure what to say. Finally: “It’s not my intent to hurt your mom in any way,” he said. “And I’ve enjoyed having the chance to get to know her a little better.”

Casey nodded, staring out the window for a beat, then came back to him. “I know that none of this is really my business. It’s just that she’s my mom. And it’s not like she goes on lots of dates. I think she’s gone out with three guys since the divorce, and none of them lasted past the first date.”

“I get it. And I think it’s terrific that you’re watching out for her.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Did you ever get deployed when you were in the army? To Iraq?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know a guy named Marshall Cullen?”

He searched his memory. “The name’s not familiar.”

“He’s the father of one of my friends. He was in the army, too, and that’s where he was sent.”

“A lot of people were.”

“My friend says he has nightmares. Really bad ones.”

“Many veterans do.”

She seemed about to ask him whether he, too, suffered nightmares, but instead she changed the subject. “Mitch told me that you taught him how to throw a Frisbee. He said you were cool.”

“I like him. He’s a great kid.”

“He’s my little buddy,” she said. “I love him like crazy.”

Tanner smiled but said nothing. After a beat, she went on. “Once you find this guy that you’re looking for…what happens then?”

“I suppose that depends on how it goes.”

“But no matter what, you’re leaving, right? Back to Africa?”

When Tanner didn’t answer, she glanced toward her friends. Then, rising from the table, she went on. “I should probably go. They’re waiting for me.”

“I understand,” he said. “But you never answered my earlier question.”

“What question?”

“Is it going to bother you if I take your mom to dinner?”

She stared at him. “I haven’t decided yet.”

III

After finishing his sandwich, Tanner drove back to the hotel.

Kaitlyn still hadn’t answered him and he found himself wondering what Casey was going to tell her. He believed Casey had been honest about being undecided about him, which mattered to him more than he wanted to admit. At the same time, he hadn’t been lying when he said that he didn’t want to hurt Kaitlyn either. Which left him where, exactly?

He wasn’t sure, other than to accept that the next move was Kaitlyn’s. No more showing up out of the blue at places like Our Daily Bread, for instance, and no more texting or calling either. She’d answer soon enough.

In any case, he should probably focus on the thing he came to Asheboro for in the first place. He gathered the information he’d assembled at the library on Saturday and began putting together a list of calls he could make to those Johnsons that had been in Asheboro in 1992 and were still here now. He jotted the phone numbers into the notebook, took a minute to think about what he was going to say, and then dialed the first number. It rang without an answer, and he proceeded to the second phone number on the list. Again, it rang without an answer.

Of the first ten calls, nine went unanswered. The one time he was able to speak with someone, he was informed that the name didn’t ring a bell, and he crossed that entry off the list.

His lack of success wasn’t baffling. Most people had mobile phones these days, and the only people who still called landlines from unknown numbers were telemarketers or pollsters, or were wrong numbers. He’d never answered those kinds of calls either.

Not wanting to waste his time, he plugged his phone into the charger and propped himself on the bed, his hands clasped behind his head, making plans for the following day. He needed to return to the library so he could finish with his list. After that, he’d chart an efficient route and start knocking on doors. He estimated that quite a few of his knocks would go unanswered in the same way his phone calls had. In the middle of the day, many people would be at work. For them, an early-evening visit might be better, even if it meant interrupting their dinner.

Grabbing his iPad, he read his World War II book for the next few hours, then vegged in front of ESPN until after dark. When he turned out the light, he found his thoughts returning to his conversation with Casey. Her confidence had impressed him. It was hard to believe she was only seventeen; she was a lot more mature than he’d been at that age. He couldn’t remember thinking much about his grandparents at all when he was a teenager, let alone feeling as though he had to watch out for them.

And Mitch…

He was also terrific, his enthusiasm contagious. We’re going to the zoo? Awesome! The polar bear is making a ruckus? This is great! Would you like to try your hand at Frisbee? Can we? Please? It had been impossible not to smile as he’d chattered his way through lunch, and again, Tanner knew that he’d been far less charming at Mitch’s age. Moving from base to base had meant leaving friends behind; it meant struggling to fit into constantly changing environments. It meant being slow to trust and even slower to open up to others, and way too many fights to remember. Mitch, on the other hand, was pretty much a happy, open book; Tanner couldn’t imagine Mitch fighting with anyone.

In a way, Casey and Mitch reminded him of his friend Glen’s kids. He remembered the older one was sharp and even a little pushy, while the younger was content and up for anything. Kaitlyn also reminded him a bit of Molly, he decided. And though it was a truth he kept hidden from others, Molly had always been his favorite of his friends’ wives. She was, he thought, a class act in every way.

Just like Kaitlyn.

IV

The following morning, Tanner went for his run and stopped for breakfast in the lobby before returning to his room to shower and change. He was at the library not long after it opened, and the librarian at the desk again retrieved the old phone book. Just as he’d done before, he cross-referenced the names with the newish white pages he pulled up on his phone. He then pinpointed the addresses and marked them on his map. Thinking that someone may have lived in Asheboro, moved away for a spell, and then returned to the town—or knew a family member who had—he decided to add everyone named Johnson from the newish white pages to his list and, again, pinpointed them on the map. In the end, there were more than ninety stops on his list, and he was out the door a few minutes before noon.

He decided to start on the western side of town. There were a lot of Johnsons in that area, and after reaching the first house, he approached the door and knocked. Though no one was home, a neighbor had emerged not long after he’d pulled into the drive. She was an older lady and dressed for gardening. He told her who he was looking for, but the woman shook her head.

“Henry and Ethel have daughters, not sons,” she said. “They moved here from Fayetteville in 1990.”

That would have been eleven or twelve years too late. “Are you sure about the date?”

“I am,” she said, “because we’d just moved here the month before. I remember bringing them my famous peach pie. It placed third at the North Carolina State Fair.”

Though he was itching to get to the next house, the neighbor kept talking. After describing the peach pie and sharing her secret—a pinch of nutmeg—she started asking about him, so she could tell Henry and Ethel who’d come by. He implied that the man he was looking for had been a friend he’d known in the army, which led her to another round of questions, because Henry had been in the army as well. Like Tanner, he’d been stationed at Fort Bragg.

It took nearly twenty minutes for Tanner to extricate himself, but at the second house, he got luckier. Or unluckier. The Johnsons had moved out three months earlier, and the new owners had no information at all.

Tanner hit three more houses without luck before stopping for a late-afternoon snack at Kickback Jack’s. He ordered a salad and was poking at the lettuce when his phone vibrated with an incoming text. Kaitlyn. On the screen, he saw only the first part of it:

I checked with the kids. Casey reminded me that she has midterms early this week, so I didn’t want to ask her to…

He hesitated, thinking I guess that’s it, then, before scrolling further.

watch Mitch. She did suggest, however, that you come over for dinner on Wednesday night. She said she wanted to thank you again for driving her home after the accident. Does that work for you? Say around six-thirty?

Tanner raised an eyebrow, knowing that Casey hadn’t made the suggestion because she wanted to thank him again. She wanted to act as a chaperone, no doubt so she could form her own opinion about her mother and the stranger who’d soon be leaving town. He typed a quick response.

6:30 on Wednesday sounds great. See you then.

Setting the phone aside, he smiled. Though he would rather have seen Kaitlyn sooner, he reminded himself that he had plenty of things to do until then.

V

He spent the rest of the afternoon traveling from one house to the next and crossed more names off the list. As for the ones who weren’t home, he figured he’d try again in a few hours.

Finished for the time being in the western part of town, he focused next on the northern part, visiting seven more homes without luck. Once, he thought he got lucky; it was the correct name, but a single glance revealed that there was no way the man could have been his biological father. He was only a few years older than Tanner.

Finally, as dusk began to mute the brilliant colors of the spring day, he doubled back to the houses he’d visited earlier where his knocks had gone unanswered. A little more than half were now home, and with one response, he suddenly felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest. The name was right, and the man also looked to be the right age. But then he said he’d moved to Asheboro in 2001 from Pennsylvania, so again, the dates didn’t work.

It was dark by the time he returned to the hotel. In all, the day had been relatively productive; he figured he’d knocked off more than a quarter of the list. At this rate, he’d be able to finish by the early part of the following week, or sooner, if he happened to get lucky.

For dinner, he went to an Italian restaurant he’d spotted a few days earlier; as he ate, he found himself wondering yet again what his biological father was like, even if he also accepted the idea that it was more than possible he was wasting his time and the man was long gone. Forty years was a long time for anyone to remain in a small town, but with his car in the shop for the foreseeable future, he had nothing better to do. More important, he knew any lingering uncertainty about the Asheboro connection to his father would plague him until he learned the truth one way or another.

Around 8:00 p.m ., Tanner started making calls again. Three people answered, allowing him to cross more names off his list.

VI

On Wednesday morning, Tanner was back on the phone and four people answered. Again, his hopes were momentarily raised on one of those calls, but again, follow-up questions revealed that much of his day would be spent knocking on doors.

As usual, he went for a run before downing two cups of coffee, and he picked up his search where he’d left off the day before. He stopped at mobile homes and tract homes, farmhouses, and a cabin so old it looked as though it was about to fall down in the next big storm.

By late afternoon, he’d made more progress than he’d thought he might, though he still hadn’t found the man he’d been looking for. His thoughts kept drifting to Kaitlyn and dinner at her house. He was looking forward to seeing her again.

VII

He stopped by the body shop on the way back to the hotel; the owner informed him that the necessary parts had been ordered. On the downside, it would take two weeks—maybe even three—for them to arrive. It made him wonder what he’d do if his search in Asheboro didn’t pan out.

He supposed he could use the rental car to visit a few of the remaining widows and families he hadn’t yet seen. One was in Virginia and another in Pennsylvania, both close enough to make the drive relatively easy, while the last family lived in the upper Midwest. But he decided to figure it out later. Right now, there were more important things to think about.

After showering at the hotel, he swung by a grocery store to buy wine and then Walmart to grab something else. He arrived at Kaitlyn’s home a few minutes early, but Mitch opened the front door even before he’d reached the porch.

“Hi, Mr. Tanner!” Mitch had draped a small blanket over his shoulders and was holding a partially eaten apple. “My mom said to be on the lookout and answer the door when you got here. But guess what?”

“What?”

“I brought the Frisbee to school. For recess.”

“Very cool,” Tanner responded. “Did you have fun with it?”

“It still curves when I throw it. One time, it almost landed on the roof.”

“It takes practice, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

Mitch let Tanner inside, where a quick glance revealed a tastefully decorated, family-friendly living room, with a soft leather recliner and a gray plush sectional that was large enough for the family to sprawl. On one wall, a flat-screen television was playing a Jurassic Park movie; a cabinet decorated with books and photos of the children and intricate pieces of glass art dominated another. Above the fireplace hung a striking photograph of clustered birch trees in winter, an austere scene of blacks and whites and grays that lent an aura of peacefulness to the room. Straight ahead, off the main hallway, was a set of stairs, and to the right he assumed were the kitchen and dining room. There was no sign of Casey.

“My mom’s in the kitchen over there,” Mitch said, pointing. “I’m watching a movie.”

“It looks like a good one.”

“I’ve seen it before. The raptors are pretty cool. Have you seen it?”

“I think so,” he said. “I like the raptors, too. They hunt like a pack and work together.”

“Exactly!” Mitch said. “You can watch with me if you want.”

He smiled. “Let me say hi to your mom first, okay?”

Tanner set the bag from Walmart on the table near the door, retrieved the wine bottles, and made for the kitchen. As he rounded the breakfast bar, he noticed that the table in the dining room was already set, complete with a couple of wineglasses. Beyond the center island, Kaitlyn stood at the stove in front of a roasting pan with her back to him. She was basting a chicken nestled in a bed of carrots and onions, and a savory aroma filled the air. Her dark hair, loose and wild today, spilled over her shoulders.

“Hey,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “You made it. I wasn’t sure you’d remember where I lived. I was about to text you the address.”

“I remembered,” he assured her, certain that she looked even more beautiful than she had just two days earlier. He set the bottles on the counter. “How was your day?”

“Typical,” she said, returning her attention to basting the chicken. “How was yours? Did you start your search yet?”

“I did.”

“Any luck?”

“Not yet,” he answered. “On the plus side, I feel like I’m really getting to know my way around Asheboro.”

“And?”

“I can see why you like living here. It’s so pretty, but as I was driving around, I couldn’t help wondering what people here do for a living.”

“There are schools and government offices and the hospital, of course, but unless you’re a doctor or lawyer or an accountant or you own your own business, you probably work in Greensboro. It’s a commute, but it can be worth it. Life moves a little slower here, which is rare in this hectic world of ours.”

“I get that,” he said. “I like small towns, too.”

“Really? A cosmopolitan, European-born-and-raised world traveler like you?”

“I’m less cosmopolitan than you think. And after the life I’ve lived, believe me when I tell you that a little peace and quiet is just what the doctor ordered.”

“Did I? Order that, I mean?”

He laughed. “If you didn’t, you should have. Whenever I returned from deployments, I’d visit my grandparents for a few days and then rent a cottage somewhere on the coast. I’d spend hours walking the beach and just listening to the sound of the waves. In the late afternoons, I’d grill on the back porch, and it was usually lights out as soon as the sun went down. And I’d do that day after day until I finally had to go back to Fort Bragg. Asheboro reminds me of those kinds of places.”

“You know we don’t have a beach here, right?”

“No, but you’ve got the national forest. If I lived here, I’m sure I’d be running the trails there every day. I’ve done a lot of that in the last couple years at various national parks, and I’ve come to believe that good mental health requires spending time in nature on a regular basis.”

“And yet, you’ll soon be moving back to a city of three million people,” she observed before quickly shaking her head. “Sorry about that. When it comes to work, I understand that we can’t always choose where we live.”

She turned her attention back to the pan and started basting again. “I hope roasted chicken is okay. I found a recipe online a while back and I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“It smells fantastic.”

“It still needs to cook a little longer, so I hope you’re not starving. I was late getting home.”

“I’m in no rush.” He reached for the bottles of wine. “I wasn’t sure what you’d be making, so I bought a Sauvignon Blanc and a Pinot. If you’re in the mood for wine, I mean.”

“I’m always in the mood for wine,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Shall we start with the white?”

“Sounds great. Do you have an opener?”

“It should be in the drawer near the sink. Right over there.”

Tanner retrieved the wineglasses from the table and proceeded to fill them. He brought one to her just as she was sliding the roasting pan back into the oven. “Unfortunately, it’s not chilled,” he apologized.

“Would you care if I add an ice cube or two?”

“Why would I mind?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re a secret sommelier on the side and you’d be offended.”

He laughed. “Actually, I think I’d like a couple of ice cubes, too.”

From the freezer she scooped a handful of ice cubes and dropped them into their glasses. He watched as she took a sip.

“Oh, this is good,” she said, brightening.

“I’ll trust you. I don’t usually drink wine.”

“Because you’re a fancy beer guy, right?” she asked with a wink. “By the way, I don’t think you ever told me why you were looking for the guy in Asheboro…”

Tanner let the comment hang for a moment before shaking his head. “I didn’t,” he said. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“If you’d rather not talk about it, that’s fine. It’s none of my business.”

“No, I don’t mind,” he said, flashing on the memory of his grandmother. “I think I mentioned that my mom died when she gave birth to me,” he started, before filling her in on the rest. Through it all, Kaitlyn remained quiet, before she finally raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think your grandmother waited so long to share that information? And why did she reveal it then?”

Tanner shrugged. “I’ve wondered about that every day since she died,” he said. “The best explanation seemed to be either that they didn’t know much about him, or that it was too painful to talk about. Another, less generous option would be that they didn’t want anyone—including me—to know anything about my bio dad because they wanted to raise me. And I get it. I was all that was left of their daughter after she died.” He ran a hand over his hair. “As for the timing, I’m pretty sure it was one of those deathbed things. I think it bothered her knowing that I’d never put down roots and found a place to call home. Maybe she thought finding him would give me a family tie, or at least a sense of having come from somewhere.”

He could feel her gaze on him. “Do you think it will?”

He turned back to her, spreading his palms on the kitchen island. “I don’t know. It’s hard for me to imagine that meeting a man I’ve never known will change who I am or how I live my life. But who can say?”

Kaitlyn was the first to look away. “I suppose the idea of putting down roots anywhere feels pretty alien to you.”

“I’ve never felt the pull to stay somewhere forever,” he admitted. “But then, maybe I’ve never had a good enough reason to.”

Kaitlyn seemed to absorb this. “Well, I doubt that you’ll be able to answer that question tonight,” she said. “But did you think about how you’ll respond if you do happen to find your father and it’s not what you want?”

“What do you mean?”

He watched as she swirled the wine in her glass. “I’ve been around long enough to know that people don’t always want the truth, especially if it’s news they’re not expecting. And something like this…”

When she trailed off, Tanner frowned. “Are you saying I shouldn’t look for him?”

“I’m not saying that at all,” she countered. “I’m just wondering if you’ve thought through all the possibilities.”

“Like what?”

“What if he doesn’t even remember your mom and has no interest in meeting you? Or what if he has a new family?”

When Tanner said nothing, she went on. “There’s also the possibility that he wouldn’t be someone you even want to know. Like…what if your mom and grandparents cut off ties because he’s not a good person—he’s been to prison or something?”

Tanner stared at her, knowing that while he’d considered some of those possibilities, hearing them aloud made them seem more serious.

“Listen,” she finally added, “it’s none of my business, but it’s something to think about, isn’t it?”

“You’re right,” Tanner admitted.

“I’m sorry—maybe I’m just being a pessimist.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled, grateful not only for her wisdom, but for her honesty. “I knew that coming here would be a good idea.”

“Yeah, well, how about I put you to work, getting dinner on the table?” she said with a playful nudge.

“Gladly.” Tanner made a show of rolling up his sleeves and held up his hands. “I’m ready to sous-chef.”

“I noticed you were pretty good at chopping tomatoes on Monday. Why don’t you assemble the salad? There are cucumbers and tomatoes on the island next to the bowl of grapes, and I’ve already rinsed them. The knife and cutting board are there, too.”

Tanner washed his hands in the kitchen sink. After drying them on a hand towel, he moved the cutting board to the counter near the stove, where she was starting to melt some butter in the saucepan. As he stood near her and began to chop, he caught a whiff of her lavender-scented perfume.

“Tell me about this chicken recipe you always wanted to try.”

“It’s pretty simple, actually. Butter, fennel, salt, pepper, along with lemon halves in the cavity.”

“It doesn’t sound that simple.”

“There’s not much prep and if it was too fancy, I doubt that Mitch would like it. He’s a picky eater.”

“Most kids are,” he observed.

“On that note, it’s Rice-A-Roni,” she said, motioning to the box of rice on the counter. “I’m not making rice pilaf from scratch.”

“I didn’t know it was possible to make rice pilaf from scratch,” he joked, and saw her smile. “Thanks again for the invitation tonight.”

“It was Casey’s idea, but I’m glad you could make it.”

“I didn’t see her when I came in.”

“She’s upstairs in her room,” Kaitlyn said. “She just finished her midterms, so she’s probably listening to music or watching TikTok videos to unwind. She mentioned something about going to the beach tomorrow.”

“Doesn’t she have school?”

“It’s a teacher workday tomorrow. They have to enter grades.”

“They cancel classes for that?”

“They cancel school for all sorts of reasons these days.”

“I would have loved that growing up.”

“Me, too, but it makes it challenging for working parents, since you have to find someone to watch the kids.”

“How do you handle it?”

“When there’s no school, my next-door neighbor watches Mitch. Mrs. Simpson. Super nice, retired teacher, about a dozen grandchildren.”

“She sounds trustworthy.”

“She is. I also have her check on Mitch after school when I’m at work if Casey isn’t around. I don’t want him to feel like a total latchkey kid.”

“If it makes you feel better, when I was Mitch’s age, my grandparents worked, and they had no idea what I was doing after school until they got home. And on weekends, I sometimes took off with my friends and spent all day doing whatever and they had no clue where I was.”

“Times have changed.” As he began to slice the cucumber, she said, “What was it like growing up in Italy and Germany? Did you have to learn the languages?”

He shook his head. “I went to American schools run by the Department of Defense, so the classes were all in English. But I picked up enough here and there to get by with the locals.”

“Do you still speak Italian and German?”

“Just a little. If you don’t use it regularly, it’s amazing how fast it vanishes.”

Spotting movement from the corner of his eye, Tanner saw Casey entering the living room. As she passed Mitch, she reached down to tickle him. He shrieked, giggling and squirming before she stopped just as quickly. As she approached the kitchen, she pointedly raised an eyebrow at him, as though reminding him that she would be watching him. Reaching toward the bowl of grapes, she popped one into her mouth before leaning against the counter next to Tanner.

“Hey,” she chirped innocently. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” Kaitlyn said. She reached for a saucepan, added some butter and the Rice-A-Roni mix.

“There’s wine?”

“Tanner brought it.”

“Can I have a glass?”

“I don’t think so.”

Casey grinned. “It smells good in here. What’s for dinner?”

“Roasted chicken and veggies, rice pilaf, and a salad.”

“Wow. Fancy.”

“Oh, stop. We have chicken all the time.”

“Rotisserie chicken from the store, you mean.”

“Unless you intend to start cooking, you’re not allowed to complain about my meals, remember?”

“Do you need any help?”

“I think we’ve got it handled. It should be ready in about half an hour.”

Casey casually turned her attention to Tanner. “I’m glad you could come by. I wanted to thank you again for what you did the other night.”

“You’re welcome,” Tanner said, playing along.

“How’s your car doing?”

“It’ll be good as new in a little while.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “I like your car. It’s badass.”

“Language,” Kaitlyn chimed in. She stirred the rice.

Tanner watched as Casey rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I should have said it’s stylish.”

“I like it.”

“Can I drive it? Once it’s repaired?”

“Casey!” Kaitlyn said in a stern voice. “What kind of question is that?”

“I’m just asking,” Casey teased. “He can say no, just like you did when I asked if I could have a glass of wine.”

Tanner could sense she enjoyed putting him on the spot. “Let me think about it.”

“He can think about it as much as he wants, but I’m going to say no,” Kaitlyn announced. She put the lid on the saucepan. “What if you wreck it again?”

“I won’t wreck it,” Casey protested. “I’ve already made my one mistake. But changing the subject, what were you two talking about just now?”

“Why, we were talking about you, of course,” Kaitlyn joked.

“Seriously.”

Kaitlyn shrugged. “Nothing, really. School, the challenges of being a working mother. Grown-up stuff. Are you still planning to go to the beach tomorrow?”

“No,” Casey answered. “That’s off. It’s supposed to be cold and windy at the coast. I’ll probably just hang out with Camille.”

“Can you watch Mitch after he gets home from school?”

“He doesn’t need me to watch him, Mom. Mrs. Simpson is next door.”

“I know, but he’d love it.”

“Fine.” She sniffed. “Before I forget, I’m planning to spend the night at Camille’s on Friday.”

“Will her parents be home?”

“Of course,” Casey answered.

“And you’re not going to a party?”

“We’re going to watch scary movies.”

“You know I’m going to touch base with Camille’s parents beforehand, just to make sure.”

Casey sighed. “Fine. We’re going to a party at Mark’s first, then we’re going to Camille’s to watch scary movies.”

“Will his parents be there?”

“Yes, Mom. I promise.”

“Okay. But make sure you don’t stay out too late.”

“I never do,” she sang. “Anyway, let me know when dinner’s ready. I’m going to go bug Mitch until then. So you two can discuss grown-up things.”

She pushed off the counter and left. By that time, Tanner had finished with both the cucumbers and the tomatoes and Kaitlyn shared a long-suffering look with him.

“Welcome to my world.”

“You’re great with her.”

“I’ve learned to choose my battles carefully.”

VIII

When the meal was on the table, Kaitlyn called out to the kids and reminded them to turn off the television; as they ambled toward the dining room, Mitch poked Casey in the ribs and took off running when she yelped. They chased each other around the table before finally taking their seats, panting and giggling.

Kaitlyn stood so she could more easily cut the chicken into portions. Both Mitch and Kaitlyn favored the legs and thighs, while Casey and Tanner preferred the white meat. Rice and salad were passed around while Mitch pestered Tanner about the contents of the Walmart bag he’d left near the door.

“I brought Jenga,” he answered. “In case you wanted to play after dinner.”

Casey shot him a skeptical look. “Jenga?”

“Do you know the game?”

“I know how to play,” Casey said. “It’s just that the last time I played, I was probably in third grade.”

“It’s not just for kids. My buddies and I played it overseas when we were deployed.”

“Cool!” Mitch said.

Casey wrinkled her nose. “It’s still a child’s game.”

“Then you should have no trouble beating me, right?”

Casey’s eyes lit up, and as they began to eat, the conversation flowed easily. Kaitlyn asked for updates on school; Casey announced that the midterms were so easy as to almost be a joke, while Mitch said that he’d begun reading Where the Red Fern Grows during quiet time. He asked Tanner if they could play Frisbee again after dinner before adding that he also wanted to show Tanner all the carvings he’d made. Casey told a funny story about Camille—that she’d frantically searched her backpack looking for her phone and had begun to cry hysterically, only to realize that her phone was in her jacket pocket when it suddenly began to ring. When Tanner asked Kaitlyn about the craziest diagnosis she’d ever had to make, she thought for a moment before finally relating a story about a female patient whose initial symptoms were slight bruising on her stomach and a vivid hallucination where she imagined that spiders were crawling over her skin. Kaitlyn had learned during her exam that she traveled frequently to Mexico; she’d also noted that the patient looked twenty years younger than she actually was, with glowing skin and nary a wrinkle.

“I was a resident at the time,” Kaitlyn went on. “First, we thought it was a B-twelve deficiency, but when she started to bleed from her nose and ears, we knew something else was causing it. We ran tests for everything from Huntington’s to multiple sclerosis. In the end, the attending finally diagnosed her with leprosy.”

Tanner blinked. “You mean like leprosy in the Bible leprosy?”

“Diffuse lepromatous leprosy, also known as pretty leprosy.”

Casey wrinkled her nose. “How can leprosy be pretty? Doesn’t it make body parts fall off?”

“Wait!” Mitch cut in. “Body parts fall off?”

“Only in serious cases, if left untreated. But pretty leprosy, in the early stages, smooths the skin and erases wrinkles.”

“Maybe people should get that instead of Botox,” Casey snarked.

“Ha ha,” Kaitlyn said. “Anyway, the diagnosis was a big deal at the time. It’s not like doctors in the U.S. see leprosy regularly. But in the end, we treated the patient, and she was fine.”

“She kept all her body parts?” Mitch asked.

“All of them,” Kaitlyn assured him. “On the downside, she got wrinkles. She wasn’t happy about that part of it.”

After dinner, Tanner threw the Frisbee with Mitch while Kaitlyn cleaned up. Casey followed them out and joined the game. Eventually Kaitlyn came out to the porch to watch, though when asked if she’d like to join them, she passed.

“I’ll just sip my wine and watch you three have fun.”

Eventually Tanner begged off and they all went back inside. Casey grabbed the Walmart bag near the door and had already opened the box before taking her seat at the kitchen table. She quickly reviewed the rules as a refresher, then stacked the blocks into a tower.

“Using one hand, take out any block that’s not in the top row and stack it on top,” she said to Mitch. “If the tower falls, you lose.”

It was clear to Tanner that Casey was intent on winning. Whenever it was her turn, she took her time to gently poke various blocks before making her choice. Mitch was less selective, and in the first game, he was the one who toppled the tower. In the next game, Kaitlyn toppled it. Mitch lost the third game, and to Tanner’s chagrin, he lost the fourth one. He would have blamed the wine—he’d finished nearly two glasses by then—but Kaitlyn had the same amount and her hands seemed to be growing steadier, most likely because she was a doctor. Or at least that’s what Tanner told himself.

Through it all, there was good-natured trash talk as well as laughter, and when Tanner finally put the blocks back in the box, Kaitlyn looked at the clock before reminding Mitch that he had to take his bath and start getting ready for bed.

“But what about the carvings? I haven’t showed Mr. Tanner yet.”

“Just grab a few of them, okay? It’s getting late.”

Mitch vanished from the table and came trotting back down the steps less than a minute later with his arms full. On the kitchen table he set them upright: a cougar, a dog, a donkey, a duck, an elephant, and a giraffe, among others.

“Wow,” Tanner said, impressed. “You’ve got your own zoo.”

“I know, right?”

“Is this one you?” Casey asked, pointing to one of them.

“No,” Mitch protested. “It’s a dog!”

“It kind of looks like you.”

“Mom…”

“Casey,” Kaitlyn warned.

“I just said that because it was cute,” Casey said. “Mitch might not be cute yet, but one day, he will be.”

“You’re not cute either. I think this one is you,” he said, picking up one of them.

“Hmmm. That makes sense. I have been told I’m a bit of a unicorn.”

“It’s a donkey, not a unicorn!” Mitch cried. “See? There’s no horn and it has big ears just like you.”

“I think that’s enough for now,” Kaitlyn said. “Go take your bath.”

Mitch nodded before scooping up the animals. “Good night, Bubble Butt,” he sang over his shoulder as he disappeared up the stairs.

“I’m going upstairs, too,” Casey said. “I mean, I enjoy pretending it’s the 1950s as much as the next modern teenage girl, but the texts are piling up.”

A minute later, Tanner and Kaitlyn were alone at the table.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said in the sudden quiet.

“It was fun,” she agreed. “It’s easier when Casey is on her best behavior.”

“Want to sit outside on the porch?” he asked. “It’s a beautiful night.”

“Is there any wine left in the bottle?”

He reached for it and topped off both of their glasses before they moved outside. Seated in rocking chairs on the porch, they could see the neighbors’ homes illuminated from within, the moonlight bathing the yards in a silver glow. From one of the homes, he could hear the faint sound of music playing.

“Do you sit out here much?”

“Hardly ever,” she admitted. “That’s more my parents’ thing. They used to sit on the front porch after work and on the weekends. In fact, these rockers were among their wedding gifts. But sitting on the front porch wasn’t something that George liked to do, even in the rare moments he was around.”

“You’ve got to admit, it’s kind of nice.”

“It is.” She rested her head on the back of her rocker, gazing at him from beneath lowered lids. “I’m really glad you came tonight,” she said softly.

“Me, too.”

“The kids like you. Even Casey, which is kind of astounding.”

“Why?”

“She didn’t like any of the guys I dated after the divorce. Not that there were all that many.”

“That’s normal, isn’t it? A lot of kids fantasize about their parents getting back together, so it makes sense that they wouldn’t like anyone new.”

“I guess.” She took a sip of wine. “I want to ask you something, but I also want you to know that I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ask whatever you’d like.”

“It’s about your time in the military,” she began.

He nodded. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. Why you joined, what it was like. Why you left.”

“And whether it messed me up, right?”

“I don’t think it messed you up,” she protested. Then: “Did it?”

He gave a wry smile. “I don’t think so, but as you’ve already learned, my life choices haven’t exactly been typical.” He stared up at the sky, collecting his thoughts. “By the time I was thirteen or fourteen, I knew that college wasn’t for me, and because of my granddad, the army seemed like a natural fit. I was young and cocky and believed I was bulletproof, so I enlisted. And I quickly figured out that the army, in some ways, is just like any other bureaucracy. Some of those who outrank you are great, others are idiots, but in the end, you’re just a cog in the machine. Then came 9/11. I don’t know if you remember what those first years were like after the towers fell, but there was a massive surge of patriotism, especially in the military, and it felt as though I suddenly understood my purpose. And for a long time, I did. Which was why I ended up going the Delta route, after the Rangers. The U.S. had been attacked, and I was tasked with eliminating the infrastructure and people that made the attack possible. So that’s what I did, night after night. And I felt like I was doing the most important job in the world.”

When he paused, she stopped rocking and turned in her seat to face him. “But?”

“The mission evolved,” he said with a shrug. “After a few years, it wasn’t just about the Taliban or Al Qaeda or Bin Laden, it was suddenly about Iraq. We were sent to find weapons of mass destruction, but there weren’t any. Then we were supposed to get Iraq on track toward democracy, and that didn’t work out so well either. Then we were supposed to help establish a stable government in Afghanistan, which meant breaking bread with tribal leaders and villagers who might have shot up your camp earlier that same morning. It got…confusing. The goalposts weren’t just moving; they were continually being shifted into entirely different stadiums. With every new deployment, there were new ideas, and eventually, the whole thing sort of lost its luster. A lot of my friends began stepping away and eventually, I did the same.”

“Do you regret leaving?”

He leaned his head back, pondering the best way to explain it. “When I got out, I knew I was making the right decision. I knew I was done. But the passage of time changes things. Now, I can’t help thinking that those were some of the best years of my life. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

“Seriously?” Kaitlyn’s expression was doubtful.

“Unless you’ve been there, I’m not sure you can ever really understand it. But the truth is, you feel very much alive when you’re undertaking missions with people you trust. There’s a deep camaraderie, absolute unity of purpose, and overwhelming intensity, with actual human lives on the line. Factor in massive adrenaline dumps, and…war becomes its own addictive drug. I know I’m not the first one to describe it that way, but it’s true, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself. I think that’s part of the reason a lot of veterans have trouble adjusting to life in the civilian world. There’s just nothing comparable.”

He paused to take a sip of wine, feeling her eyes on him.

“I’m not trying to make it seem romantic, because it wasn’t. It was dirty and stressful and frequently boring, and when you’re in the thick of it, all you want to do is get out of there. You dream about spending time with your grandparents or enjoying the simple things in life. Activities like mowing the lawn or kicking back to watch a ball game on TV with friends take on almost spiritual significance. But then, when you do get back from deployment, you realize that those things aren’t enough to fill the void created by what you left behind.”

“I think I understand,” Kaitlyn said after a moment. “And it makes sense that part of you would miss it. Which I assume explains why you decided to work for USAID, too. Because suburban life in America wasn’t for you?”

“That was part of it for sure, but the other part had to do with guilt. I lost a lot of friends, as I already told you, but by the end, I realized that nothing we’d done in Afghanistan had really mattered in the long run. Most of the clans and tribes still considered us invaders and infidels no matter how much we were trying to help them. To them, we were the bad guys, and I guess part of me wanted to make up for that by doing something good in the world.”

“And now?”

“What do you mean?”

“How does suburban American life strike you now?”

“It’s hard for me to say. I was on vacation in Lahaina when Covid hit, so I stayed there for a few months, but it never really felt like home. Later, when I was with my grandma in Pensacola, that was its own sad situation, and again, it never felt like home.”

“I’m just glad you’re not haunted by what you went through in the same way that some of your friends were.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but I’m not sure I’d consider myself normal either. What about you, though? Any battle scars you want to tell me about?”

“Like my divorce, you mean?”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She was quiet for a moment. “It was one of those things that worked until it didn’t,” she finally said. “That’s what I tell people and there’s a lot of truth to it—we were more like business partners by the end, as opposed to a couple—but the way it happened left me feeling worthless for a long time.” She closed her eyes and sighed before glancing over at him. “He left me for a Pilates instructor a few days before my fortieth birthday.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I remember kind of disassociating when he told me. I mean, the whole thing was such a cliché. Even her name. Amber. He moved out that same night.”

“Is that the one he married?”

“It is,” she said. “I’ll give it ten years at the most, but that’s just me being the occasionally vengeful ex-wife.”

He smiled before she went on. “But that was just the start of it. The divorce process was awful, too. He kept insisting on joint custody, with the kids moving from my house to his house every other week, but to my mind, he was using the kids as leverage to lower his property settlement. It’s not that I didn’t want the kids to see him or spend time with him, but his work meant that he was out of the house every day by six-thirty in the morning, and he usually didn’t make it home until half past seven. Unlike me, he’s on call at the hospital and even works two or three Saturdays a month. Which meant the kids were with a nanny, not him, and they were struggling, so in the end, I caved. He got most of everything, while I got primary physical custody of the kids. If there was anything positive at all about the experience, it was that I lost respect for him, which made it easier to finally move on.”

“Sounds rough,” he said. “I already don’t like him.”

“Thanks,” she said. She was quiet for a moment. “As far as other scars, I think it’s the same one all working mothers develop. This feeling that I’m failing, no matter what I do. When I’m at work, I wish I could be there more for my kids; when I’m with my kids, I feel like I’m wasting my education. And it’s complicated by the fact that work fills a need inside me, one distinct from my life as a mom, and that sometimes makes me feel guilty, too.”

“So lots of damage in your past.”

She laughed. “At least I’m not living in Motel Sixes.”

“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m staying at the Hampton Inn.”

“My mistake,” she said, her voice teasing.

“And the kids. How are they doing with all of it now?”

“I think they’ve gotten used to it. In all fairness, he does well at keeping in touch. He calls them regularly, sends them money and gifts, and they spend every other holiday and a month in the summer with him. But…”

He raised an eyebrow before she went on. “Casey just threatened to go live with him next school year. He said he’d get her a car if she did.”

“Do you think she was serious?”

“I don’t know. But she’s old enough to make the decision, so if she does want to go, I won’t try to stop her.”

“She’ll stay,” Tanner reassured her, but he could sense how powerless Kaitlyn felt. In time, she shook her head.

“Anyway, that’s my story.”

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, meeting and holding her eyes.

Kaitlyn was the first to look away. “I should probably make sure Mitch is in bed,” she said.

Tanner nodded and the two of them rose from their seats and went inside. While Kaitlyn went upstairs to check on Mitch, Tanner washed the wineglasses. By the time he’d dried them, she was coming back down the stairs.

“All good,” she offered when she reached the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee before you go?” she asked.

“Decaf would be great, but only if you’re having some.”

Kaitlyn prepped the coffeemaker and then pulled out a pair of mugs from the cabinet.

It didn’t take long to brew, and Kaitlyn brought the mugs to the table.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” she responded, wrapping her hands around her mug. “Why?”

“Because I was hoping we could do dinner again. I would have suggested Friday, but I heard Casey say she’s going to a party.”

Kaitlyn waited for a moment before raising her eyes. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” she said, her voice soft.

Tanner had a feeling he knew what she was going to say.

“I like you. Talking to you tonight, I realized how much I enjoy spending time with you, and if we go out again, I’ll probably like you even more. And that scares me. Because you’re going to be leaving town soon. And then, after that, you’ll be leaving the country. I’m not sure that’s what I need in my life right now.”

He recognized the truth of what she was saying, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “I understand.”

“But just know that yes, if things were different, I’d have loved to see you again.”

“I can’t say that makes me feel any better,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

He stared into his coffee mug, then drained it. “It’s getting late, and you have work tomorrow. Which means I should probably get going.”

She seemed relieved, even if he noted a shadow of regret in her eyes. “I’ll walk you out.”

Tanner brought his cup to the sink and rinsed it; she set hers on the counter. As they started for the door, she paused. “Don’t forget to take your game,” she reminded him.

“Oh, that’s for the kids to keep,” he said.

“Thank you.”

They descended the porch steps, heading toward his rental car. As he walked beside her, it struck him that these might be the last moments they spent together, a reality that felt strangely weighted. And yet, as they finally reached his car, he found himself turning toward her. When she met his gaze, he took a small step toward her, his hand automatically reaching for her hip.

He expected her to stop him, expected her to retreat, but she continued to hold his gaze as he moved even closer. He tugged gently, feeling as she responded by leaning toward him, their bodies slowly coming together.

Her lips were soft and warm, and when his tongue briefly met hers, he felt an electric charge run through him. He succumbed then to the sensation, the urgent press of her body against his own. His hand went to her lower back, holding her even closer, and for a long time, they continued to kiss, Tanner losing himself completely in the glory of her scent and skin, the hollows of her neck and the ragged sound of her breath.

When they finally separated, he sensed both her longing and her sadness. “Tanner…” she whispered, and though he knew she meant it as a goodbye, he couldn’t bring himself to end it like this. Instead, he breathed the words that had been inside him, from the moment he’d first seen her.

“You’re beautiful, Kaitlyn.”

She closed her eyes, and for a moment her face seemed to glow in the milky half-light of the moon. When her eyes drifted open, her pupils looked huge, hypnotic, casting a spell that he was powerless to resist.

“Okay,” she said, her voice sounding almost dreamlike. “Let’s go to dinner tomorrow.”