Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Millie placed a blue bag she’d decorated in menorahs and dreidels in Leo’s hands. In the center big curvy letters spelled out Uncle Leo. The part of him not shattered by earlier events thawed.
“You made this for me, kiddo?” he asked.
“Duh.” Millie rolled her eyes. “Open it!”
He pulled out the white tissue paper, finding a mug inside. Like the bag, this mug had been decorated by Millie. Hearts and candy wrappers covered the outside, surrounding text in the same curvy handwriting: To The Sweetest Uncle.
“I’m sweet?” He held up the mug, showing it to the others, begging them to answer the question.
Millie answered first. “Yup! You have a sweet tooth, so you’re the sweetest uncle.”
Sweet. Just what every man wanted to be called. “My love of sweets doesn’t have anything to do with how I am as an uncle.”
Millie wrapped her arms around him. “Nope. It does. You’re sweet.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and he expected her to skip off, instead she clung.
Leo glanced at David. “Help me out here?”
David shook his head. “Don’t make me kiss your cheek as well.”
Leo put the mug back in the bag. Millie hadn’t let go, so he wrapped an arm around her. His father thought he was a screwup, Andie hated him, and Millie thought he was sweet. None of those matched or felt right.
Heated voices continued in the kitchen from his parents, and he strained, trying to send his hearing aids around the corner to get an inkling of what transpired. Not that he couldn’t make a valid guess: his father would deny blame and his mother would encourage him to see the other side.
At this point, Leo wondered if he needed the faraway job offer.
David sat down next to him. “Hey, let them work through it.”
Leo scoffed. “We still on for our New Year’s plans? It’s now my top option.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how irreplaceable is Andie’s desk?”
“Fifty.”
David winced. “Yeah, we’re still on.”
“I’m sorry,” came a barely audible voice from under Leo’s arm.
He looked down at the kid still burrowed into his side. It knocked every other thought or emotion out of him and he turned his full attention to Millie. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
She sniffed; he hadn’t even realized she’d be close to tears. “I caused this.”
“Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything here,” David said. He reached out, rubbing Millie’s arm.
“I made Uncle Leo make a wish and he wished for Andie. Now that wish backfired, because a menorah shouldn’t give wishes, and if I hadn’t made him make that wish then Andie would still have her desk and Grandpa and Leo wouldn’t be mad at each other.”
Leo pulled Millie back into him. “None of that is your fault.” He took a breath, debated his next words, if they would help or create more problems. Then he realized escaping problems had not been on the to do list of the day. “I actually didn’t make a wish.”
Millie’s head shot up and Leo worried he’d chosen the wrong option. “You didn’t?”
He scratched his neck, glanced at David, but his brother-in-law only leaned back, a clear “your funeral” vibe emitted. “I had already had dinner with Andie before you wanted me to make that wish. I only wanted to make you happy.”
“Oh. So it’s not magic?”
Through her eyes he watched her little heart break as if he’d just killed the tooth fairy. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried it.”
Her eyes cleared and she stood up straight, the typical Millie headstrong stance coming back. “Oh. Okay. So this was just some rotten bad luck then.”
Leo did his best not to wince at the low jab he doubted she meant.
“We’ll still have to try it out. Those words are there for a reason.”
“Maybe next year,” David said, “we don’t need any more trouble this year.”
Millie nodded. “Yes. I see your point.” She crossed her arms, faced Leo. “Next year, first night of Chanukah, we make wishes together.”
Leo held out a fist to bump. “You’ve got it.”
Millie bumped his fist, then skipped off to her mother. Leo slumped into his seat.
“How do you handle that?” he asked David.
“You either wing it and hope for the best or don’t have kids.”
“Well, good thing my romance track record supports the latter.” This day needed a major do-over button. With his luck, the exact same mistakes would still happen.
Luck and Leo might start with the same letter, but that’s where the similarities ended. He hadn’t a chance to fully recover from Millie’s little bombshell when his father entered the room and walked straight up to him.
“What now? Have another item that’s not for sale to sell?” He could bite his tongue and the snark would still leak out.
“I’d like a word with you,” Glen said.
“Been there, done that.” He leaned forward. “It never works out in my favor.”
“Son, let me—” Glen stopped talking when Leo held up a hand.
The room had gone eerily quiet, but Leo kept his gaze on his father, not on if they even had an audience. He rose, slowly getting to his full height. “No. A son is someone you support. Teach hard lessons to but show that you also have their back. You haven’t had mine since I was sixteen and nothing I can ever do will change that.”
He stepped to the side, away from where his father had blocked him into the couch. His heart ached, deep inside. Extra at the realization he had been waiting for that pat on the back that would never come. In such a short amount of time, Andie somehow managed to see into the very heart and soul of him. Something a lifetime of knowing him hadn’t done so well with Glen.
“I’m not your son. You gave me up over a decade ago. Not even my sickness could change that.” Leo grabbed his jacket. “I’m going for a walk.” He let the words sail over his shoulder, not checking on who got the message or not. For all he knew, his father had already left the room.
The outside air did nothing to calm Leo or set his chaotic thoughts to a tranquil state. He shoved his hands into his pockets, walking along the grass border to the road. Neighbors had begun to turn their outside lights on, the artificial glow combating against the darkening sky. Several houses had multiple cars parked out front, with lights and movement happening inside.
Leo hoped their gatherings held more peace than his.
He had ambitions. He had dreams. And they all centered around Dentz Antiques. A day ago, heck, an hour ago he would have denied that it had anything to do with letting life happen to him. A passive man did that. Not one who had goals. Goals his own father blocked him on.
So what did he want? No, that wasn’t the question. What was he going to do with what he wanted. Starting his own business with Dean and the support of David felt like a step in the right direction. He wasn’t Andie; uprooting across the country felt too extreme. Because his home was here, along with his family. And the business he really did want.
The world spun a bit and he sat down on a stone fence. He could be an active player in his future and stay local, people did that all the time. Which meant the real problem went deeper and was more complex than that, rooted in his father’s approval. He’d given up on it years ago, true, but secretly yearned for it.
No more. He only needed to prove himself to himself. And if he was honest, he didn’t do that often. Helping Andie with her desk was one of those rare moments.
Andie’s desk. It should still be in the shop, giving him a chance to check on Dean’s wax job and charm Andie with a renovated family heirloom. Instead, everything had been messed up. He wanted to find an answer, a way to solve the problem. Short of knocking down McFadden’s door and taking the possession back, he had no ideas. A dark, cruel twist of fate. He had found someone, a person he wanted to hold on to. The Ohio job already put a wrench into his plans, but there had been hope, and potential.
Not anymore. Now his future was as dark as the sky above his head, or as dark as the sky would soon be, with only a few natural spots of light.
An old mustang chugged down the street, dark clouds of exhaust trailing behind. A lot like his present life: what was once new and bright now existed with rust and dirty smoke. The fumes hit his nose, tickled his throat, forcing him to stand and get moving again.
He circled the block, then did it again, not ready to greet those inside and fake a smile for the rest of the family. The night had grown darker, and colder, and he finally zipped his jacket, the heat of his anger down to a low simmer.
Either the time, or the cold, or Andie’s words finally settling, but his thoughts became clearer. He wanted Dentz Antiques. He wanted to take over the helm and help the business thrive. So help him, he wanted the chance to pass it down to his own children, or nieces and nephews. He could build a new legacy somewhere else, but this had always been his. He’d tried to win it, to earn it. A fruitless task. If he wanted it, and he did, he needed to make it clear. And now, with his father’s epic mistake, was his chance.
The business would never be handed to him as it had been to his father. He had to take it. Like his father used his past mistakes to hold him back, he’d use his father’s mistake to make things right.
His legs moved with vigor now, a new pep to his stride. Only when he made it to the house, a figure sat on the steps. Adult-sized, casual stance. He took a gamble, ambling closer, until Dean came into view. Leo’s gloveless hands were ice cold in his pocket, and walking hadn’t eradicated a new urge to shiver. He sat down on the steps next to Dean, blowing air on his hands.
“I came back and you weren’t here, so I ended up talking to Dad,” Dean began.
Leo had hunched over for warmth, only now he straightened. “And?”
“Point in his favor: he called McFadden.”
An undeniable burst of hope struggled free.
“It went to voicemail. Dad left a message. I think you should hear him out.”
Leo stared at his brother; eyes wide enough to catch the wind.
Dean raised his hands. “I know. I know. Believe me. I wanted to walk the other way when Dad approached me. But Mom was there, giving me her Mom look and I had no choice. So we talked. And I think some sense has gotten through the old man’s thick skull.”
Leo scoffed. “I doubt it. Maybe it’s a brief moment of lucid thoughts.” The type of moment he needed. “Actually, this could work in our favor.”
Dean blinked. “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”
Leo wanted to ask what that meant, but he feared he knew exactly thanks to Andie. “I had a wonderful person get wrapped into our family drama say a few overdue words.”
“Andie is something.”
It hurt, how much he needed her and how much he’d hurt her. The least he could do was not to mess up this opportunity. “She is. You want the business?”
Dean straightened. “Of course.”
“With me? Partners. Fifty-Fifty.”
Dean smiled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Relief filled Leo, not the kind where he needed his brother’s response, because he already knew what that would be. Relief that he’d finally gotten where he needed to be. No more inaction. “Then we use his mistakes like he’s used ours and take it.”
“Like a club to the head?”
A rough laugh choked out of Leo. “I’m still liable to hit him. Make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Dean gave him a salute. “You got it. Partner.” He held out a hand and Leo grasped it. “Now, let’s go talk to Dad, and then fix the wrong done to Andie.”
“I want to. I’m not sure how.”
“You’ll think differently soon.”
That got Leo’s attention. He turned to his brother, trying to read the man’s mind. “Seriously?”
“You won’t know if I’m wrong or right until we talk to Dad.”
Leo stood and dusted off his backside, an urgency to get inside that had nothing to do with the cold. “Let’s do this.”
Andie sat with her soupy ice cream, unable to move as she waited for Sarah to arrive. A tiredness wanted to claim her, one that wouldn’t respond to sugar or an energy drink. She should have kept her distance, stuck to a lonely and boring Chanukah, braved lighting her candles on her own with the lingering hurt and memories of her father.
That hurt she could handle, this new vice around her heart was too much. She wanted to climb out of her skin, get away from the painful itch, but knew those to be foolish thoughts. She couldn’t change what had happened any more than she could bring her father back. But life had options and even through all the emotional upheaval, Andie held control over her life and the outcome. The new pain would fade, and what she did next could help.
The email from Ohio shined up at her. While slurping ice cream she reviewed the offer, and the benefits package. And like the frozen state her ice cream should have been in, her heart no longer jumped with glee over the very appealing offer.
“It’s just your mood. A million-dollar salary would look bland tonight.”
A fresh start. She held it in her hands. A chance to leave all of this behind, continue her education, make new friends. The accept button glinted, winking into the harsh night. One click, and she could begin the process.
Her fingers wouldn’t budge. Something didn’t feel right, not anymore. Though that blame could be handed to Leo and her mood of the night. She wouldn’t derail her thoughts because of one very bad night. Andie Williams was stronger than that.
The screen turned black before any action could be taken. Andie slumped into the cushion, placing the sloshing ice cream on the coffee table. On a whim, she clicked over to the temple preschool website. The job listing wasn’t on the page, but for all she knew they didn’t often advertise here. She clicked through, over pictures of happy students, paused when a pigtailed younger version of Millie smiled up from a group of kids. Her heart tugged at that, the ice thawing.
Andie shook it aside. She clicked over other details, landing on the mission statement. Our mission is to provide a safe and loving learning environment, enriching and nurturing in values and ideals, where each child has the space and support to grow according to their unique learning styles . The success of the future starts here . The words clicked a box deep inside, gave her the sense of focus on a night where she had no direction at all. Different opportunities existed here, beyond what the Ohio job had to offer. She read the statement again, and again, the ice nearly all gone from her heart.
No, foolish thoughts. Jumping without a safety net, making plans on a whim. She loaded the Ohio school, found their mission statement. While the job offer and benefits package had given her the good kind of chills, this statement didn’t. It said generic preschool trying its best. Granted, that’s where Andie wanted to step in and help, because trying is all one could ever ask of others. It left room for growth, and her position there could make a difference. Yet, Andie began to wonder if her vision truly did align with theirs.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” She tried to convince herself she was looking at the world through the lens of a broken heart. But her heart had always been strong and sure, even in the face of tragedy.
She clicked back to her email, closed the Ohio offer, and scrolled up. A new email winked up at her, one she hadn’t seen before. It had arrived the previous evening, while Andie was occupied with lights and power outages. It was from the temple. Titled simply: preschool position.
“That was fast.” Did that mean good things or not? Her finger shook as she clicked it open. She scanned over the email, seeing her second job offer had come through. Her emotions had already been on a rollercoaster, and now an additional corkscrew loop. Maybe two. And yet, a sense of calm spread as she read the details. Pay consistent to the area and the position, decent benefits package, time off for classes …
Andie paused and scrolled back up. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her and the classes she saw were her own to teach, but no, the temple had a program to help maximize continued education. Not as big a benefit as her other offer, but still a benefit.
She leaned back, staring out into her room. In a day where everything had gone wrong, somehow the tide had turned. Two amazing job offers had landed on her lap. Two, when others had none. A smart person would take the time, draw up a list of pros and cons, and weigh all the options.
Her heart wanted the temple job. Maybe meeting Leo, spending this awful Chanukah with him wasn’t about building a connection or joining a family. Maybe it brought her to the temple, and to the temple preschool. She could stay local, not leave her friends or the other memories of her life with her dad. She could go back to school, work toward her master’s like she’d always wanted. Her desk would be lost, but the odds of safely moving it to Ohio had been slim.
“I’m staying.” The words may have been soft, but they held a strong backbone she didn’t currently feel. “I’m staying.” She said it again, louder and surer, and some of the unrest deep inside settled.
“Well, what do you know—I really am staying.” It felt right. Her neighbor had had a purpose in her life, one beyond a surefire trust issue she’d bring to her next relationship. He brought her to her next job.