Chapter 10
ten
I f only the beauty of her mom’s script as she wrote out accounting problems could change the ugly bottom line in the red ledger. Sadie sat with her mom at her parents’ house, looking over the books.
Her mom tapped her pencil on the table. “It’s not that bad, really. We have three outstanding lines of credit that have now been paid in full.”
Sadie closed her laptop. “True. And with those checks, we have almost a quarter of what we still owe the bank.”
Her mom squeezed Sadie’s hand. “And that’s something. Closer than your dad has ever been. Between David’s big sales and the checks coming in, I think we have a chance of making this deadline. And the grand reopening over the weekend of the fall festival? Genius.”
All thanks to David. He’d made flyers and posted them all over town yesterday. There had already been a lot of buzz about the event. “You’re not just saying that.”
Her mom straightened her papers. “You know I wouldn’t. I don’t give false hope.”
That she didn’t. Her mom had been the one to tell Sadie to move on after David broke up with her. She’d been the one to tell her to hang on after Bonnie died, and she’d been there when Sadie had cried after Jeremy’s death.
Her mom hadn’t asked about dinner yet, but Romee had sent several texts and even brought Toby into the group messages. Now she had all of her siblings wanting details.
Her mom placed her elbows on the table and tucked her hands under her chin. “Please don’t make me ask about your dinner.”
Moms must have mind-reading abilities. Hopefully that would kick in when she was officially Lottie’s mom. Sadie could hope.
“It was…” Dreamy. Romantic. Fun. Sadie stretched her fingers, remembering the feel of David’s larger, more calloused hand on hers. “Educational. We talked about things we’ve never talked about. Maybe even hinted about a potential future.”
“Good. You guys never were great communicators, and that’s an important part of successful relationships. Be careful, honey. You’ve always loved that boy, we all did, and I only want you to be happy. David has grown into an incredible man. But be careful with your heart, because he shattered it once. And also, guard Lottie’s. She talks about him a lot.”
A good point. How could she protect Lottie, her own heart, and explore the possibility of a future with a man she’d once loved? Might still love. For now, they were friends who were exploring a potential future. No strings attached. Maybe that’s why they hadn’t kissed goodnight.
Sadie’s phone vibrated on the table, and she picked it up. “Oh no. Mom! I totally forgot about my appointment with Meredith. My house is a mess.”
“Lottie’s social worker? You better run.”
Sadie swiped the phone to answer. “Hi, Meredith. I’m across the street, and I’m on my way over. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”
Her mom waved her hand over the papers on the table. “Leave this. I’ll bring them over in a while. You take care of Meredith.”
Sadie hurried out of the house, straightening her shirt and hair as she jogged across Richard Street from her parents’ house to the hardware store. She could see her dad and David through the glass talking with Colby Marc at the register. Colby and Madison had recently returned from a tour. She hadn’t seen them since she moved home, but her mom had told her all about how the singer had moved to the small town and fallen in love with one of Heritage’s very own girls.
She pulled up the group chat with her siblings. She needed to know someone would have her back, that they’d pray for her and support her. The group chat may have formed recently, but it had become something Sadie loved. She typed in a quick message and fired it off.
Sadie: Forgot meeting with social worker. My house is a mess! Prayers needed.
Romee: You’re a neat freak, it can’t be that bad. *Praying hands emoji.
Anna: What’s that? A cereal bowl in the sink? Oh no. *Shocked emoji.
Toby: I still don’t know why I’m here, but you’ve got this. Prayers.
Sadie tucked her phone away and fluffed her hair one more time as she walked around the back of the building and found Meredith Coldbrug leaning against her silver Camry. “I’m so sorry. I let time slip away from me.”
Meredith extended a welcoming hand and a warm smile that helped calm Sadie’s racing pulse. “No worries. Things happen. I’m a little early.”
Sadie glanced at her watch. Meredith wasn’t early, but Sadie appreciated the gesture. Meredith had been a blessing since the court assigned her to Lottie. Always put together, the tall woman had an easy smile and a laid-back demeanor that quickly put Sadie at ease. Today she had her thick, white-blonde hair pulled into a soft Dutch braid and her burnt orange blouse tucked into black wide-leg pants with round ballet flats peeping out of the hem.
“Come on in.” Sadie jogged up the stairs. Please, Lord, let the place not be as dirty as I remember. Sadie unlocked the door and pushed it open.
A welcoming, homey scent greeted her—at least the Gain-scented plug-ins were working. Sadie slipped off her shoes and did a quick once over. Breakfast dishes sat on the kitchen counter, and the pan she’d scrambled eggs in was still dirty on the stove. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the sectional sofa, and the Heritage clock was spread across her dining table in disarray. At least the boxes were all unpacked and gone. And hopefully, Lottie had made her bed this morning. Sadie hadn’t checked.
“Would you like some coffee?” Sadie stepped into the kitchen to block the view of dirty dishes.
Meredith studied the apartment as she shook her head. “Just a glass of water if you don’t mind.”
Sadie filled two glasses with water and headed toward the sofa. “Sorry, it looks a little lived-in today.”
Sadie picked up the throw blanket and folded it, making room for Meredith and trying to tidy up.
Meredith sat, placing her over-the-shoulder bag on the floor, and took a drink of her water. “Honestly? It’s nice to see you settling in. The clock on the table has me mystified though.”
Sadie hugged a throw pillow as she settled in next to the armrest of the sofa. “That’s part of Lottie’s history project. She’s determined to see if she can get it working again. The number of YouTube videos we’ve watched…”
“Tell me how you’re settling in after the move.” Meredith opened her bag and pulled out a manila folder.
Leaning back, Sadie relaxed as much as she could “Lottie and I are comfortable here. Eventually I’d like to purchase our own place, but being so close to my parents and the store has its perks. And Lottie has made friends with a little girl, Lucy, who lives not far from here.”
Sadie set her water down, her stomach in knots. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something wasn’t right.
“Your parents live across the street? Lottie mentioned being able to visit regularly.” Meredith glanced at the folder in her lap, but sipped her water, hiding any reaction Sadie could decipher.
“They do. And Lottie does check in over there often. My mom always has a cookie for her. Plus she’s taking piano lessons from my mom, so she goes there to practice.”
Meredith set her glass on the table. “Your setup is fantastic. This is just what Jeremy wanted for Lottie.”
Meredith had met with Jeremy before he passed, when he and Sadie had started the adoption process. Over time, Sadie had been so thankful for Meredith in their life, keeping them focused and the process moving forward.
“He would have. But I sense a but from you. What’s up?”
Meredith opened the folder on her lap and pulled out an official-looking document and handed it to Sadie. “Doris and Patrick have contested the adoption and petitioned for custody.”
Words swam on the pages. Sadie blinked, trying, and failing, to clear her vision. Contest the adoption? Doris had threatened this. But why now? Because Sadie had missed one phone call? Because Lottie came home with a stomach virus? Because David had been at the front door when Lottie came home?
“What can I do?” Sadie laid the paper in her lap. She’d have to read it later. Her throat tightened and she picked up her water glass, hoping maybe a sip would ease the tightness in her throat. It didn’t.
“What you’re doing—you have a steady job, a great apartment, and family surrounding you. You have the father’s wishes behind you. You have Lottie in school, where she’s thriving. She’s participating in piano and ballet. I talked to the school today, and they said you requested Lottie’s grades be sent in before the court date. You have crossed every t , dotted every i . I can’t imagine the court not ruling in your favor. It’s unfortunate that Doris and Patrick would contest, but I think you can work through it. Make sure your lawyer knows.”
“What if?—”
Meredith squeezed Sadie’s hand. “Don’t go there. You are prepared. Lottie loves you.”
Sadie blinked quickly, but the tears ran down her cheeks. “And I love her. I can’t lose her.”
Lottie burst in the front door huffing, like she’d raced up the stairs. She threw her backpack on the floor and grumbled a bunch of unintelligible words. Then she kicked off her shoes and slammed the front door. “I hate it here. I wish we never moved here.”
Sadie stood and rushed to the kitchen, blinking to clear her eyes as Lottie yanked open the refrigerator and grabbed the milk. Sadie took the milk from her and poured her a glass. Then she knelt in front of Lottie. “Hey. What happened?”
Lottie sniffed and chugged her milk. Then placed the glass in the sink with a bang. Sadie stood as Lottie stormed out of the kitchen. “Lucy was sick today. Tommy said my clock project was stupid and that there was no clock in the square. Jack said I made up the clock and that a paper on Otis would be way better. But I want to be different. Then I got my spelling test back. I missed ‘frightened.’ I know how to spell ‘frightened.’”
Sadie followed her daughter as she headed toward her room. Lottie crossed the threshold and spun around. Her faced turned red as she hiccupped. “F-R-I-G-H-T-N-E-D.”
The door slammed, echoing through the quiet apartment. It wouldn’t do to tell Lottie she’d left out an e and really hadn’t spelled the word correctly. The storm had finally hit, all the volatile emotions colliding. A tiny meow sounded from within the bedroom. Maybe Cuatro could calm her down.
Meredith cleared her throat, and Sadie hung her head, rubbing her forehead. Of course the social worker was here to see this. And no, Lottie hadn’t made her bed today.
Sadie inhaled and exhaled before turning to face the ever-professional social worker. “I’m so sorry about that.”
Meredith stepped forward. “You handled that like a champ. Kids have bad days. Do you mind if I talk to her?”
A sad chuckle escaped. “As long as you don’t correct her spelling.”
Meredith knocked on the door. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Lottie hollered an unfriendly, “Go away!” To which Meredith opened the door and peeped her head in. The nine-year-old brightened at the silly face and strange voice Meredith used as she stepped in the room.
Certain Lottie was in good hands, Sadie slipped back to the sofa to look at the paperwork.
She skimmed the words. Doris and Patrick wanted custody, claiming Sadie wasn’t a disciplinarian and that she was unorganized.
It was a nightmare come to life.
But Meredith said Sadie had a lot going in her favor. She’d keep it that way. A happy little girl, glowing grades, well-adjusted with piano and ballet lessons. Not to mention Sadie had a support system in place with her parents across the street. They had a great apartment and the store—if she saved the store.
She would save the store. She had to.
Please, Lord, I try not to ask for much, but I’m asking for this. Let me keep Lottie.
Sadie had tried praying when Jeremy was sick, but it’s like her prayers had gone unanswered. After his death, what little trust she still had disappeared. How could she let go and trust after God took Lottie’s dad? Her best friend and husband? But in this moment, she could only hope that the Good Lord would hear her. That He would indeed step in. Because she needed all the help she could get.
Please.
Four hundred dollars and fifty cents—David ran the total in his head again just to make sure. It wasn’t huge, but at least it was something. A bigger day than they’d had all week, and two more people had dropped off checks to pay off their lines of credit.
The sun sat low on the horizon as David slipped the key into the door of Hoover’s Hardware to lock up. Children laughed as they played at the playground in the town square. And a game of soccer looked like it was in full tilt beyond the playground.
David checked his watch—five-thirty—he could probably join in before he made his way to the gym. Otis still sat by the playground, surrounded by children climbing him and sliding down his back.
The date last week had been great—or so he’d thought. He hadn’t kissed her goodnight, but he’d wanted to. They’d talked—a lot. About important things. Maybe he’d misread all the signs. While things had been great in the store—larger than average sales, people paying their tabs—Sadie seemed…off. Distracted. Upset. She hadn’t said what had happened, but David could see it in her shoulders, in the worry lines that had appeared. She put on a good face, but when she thought no one was looking, it was clear to see—something was wrong.
“Hi, Mr. Williams!” Lottie waved wildly and skipped toward him. “All done with work? What are you doing now?”
“Maybe joining that soccer game over there.” David gestured to the square.
Lottie shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. “You need dinner. Come with me!”
Dinner with Sadie and Lottie? That was a big step. David glanced around. Dawn, Sadie’s mom, stood on her front porch watching. Lottie must have been over there. He waved, and she did too.
“You can’t say no, Mr. Williams. Mom’s making spaghetti. It’s my favorite.” She spoke with just enough nine-year-old sass that David let her pull him up the stairs to Sadie’s apartment.
“Spaghetti was your dad’s favorite too. Every Friday night in college, he’d make a big batch in the dorm. Made the whole floor smell like garlic and oregano.” David’s stomach rumbled.
“And garlic bread?” Lottie slowed down as she looked back at David. “Daddy loved garlic bread.”
“Of course. I always brought ice cream. A couple of the guys would bring pop or something. Your mom came too.” David paused. Both Bonnie and Sadie had joined in those dinners.
“That’s why Mom makes spaghetti on Fridays, but we don’t have it every Friday.” Lottie flung open the front door, and David was met with the overwhelming smell of garlic, oregano, and yeast—all the delicious scents of his memories. There was nothing quite as appealing as a homecooked meal. “Mom, I brought company.”
“That’s great, Lottie. Hi, Lu—” Sadie’s words died as she stepped out of the kitchen. She had changed since she left the hardware store, and now she wore black leggings, which only highlighted her shapely legs. Her oversized maroon sweater hung off one shoulder—her soft, freckled shoulder.
“Hi, David.” Her cheeks flushed a becoming pink, and she stepped closer to him, like she was glad to see him.
He stepped toward her, but Lottie spoke and reminded David they weren’t alone.
“I’ll go get Cuatro. He’ll want to see you.” Lottie skipped off toward the hallway.
Maybe he should have said no, because the moment Lottie left, Sadie’s shoulders tightened, and the stress lines appeared again.
David leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching Sadie as she moved about. Comfortable, confident, adorable. “I can go. I don’t need to stay.” But if she turned him out, he’d be making spaghetti at home, because the aroma of the cooked meat, garlic, Italian seasoning… Mouthwatering.
“It’s fine you’re here. I just would have made something nicer if I’d known. But if I remember correctly, you liked spaghetti, so make yourself at home.” She dismissed him with a wave and stirred the sauce on the stove.
He made sure he spoke low so Lottie didn’t hear. “Maybe it was just you I liked.”
Sadie didn’t respond, but by the way her neck reddened, he had no doubt she’d heard. He settled into the sofa. Or at least he tried. He pulled an oversized pillow out from behind him and settled against the blanket arranged behind it. At least she didn’t have a gazillion pillows on the L-shaped couch.
His gaze drifted to the photos decorating the wall in a collage. He paused at the one of Bonnie and Jeremy holding who he could only assume was a newborn Lottie. There was a picture of Bonnie and Lottie at a lake, and another of Jeremy, Sadie, and Lottie at what looked like the same lake. His friend and his girl. He wanted to hate the picture, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he was thankful they’d been there for each other during that season. They’d needed each other. For support. For comfort.
Lottie stood behind him and touched him on the head, then she crossed to the dining table and set the kitten on the table next to her.
“Mr. Williams, look.” Lottie sat on her knees in a padded, navy pleather chair at the table, holding a flashlight over the old Heritage clock.
He stood up and joined her. “How goes the work on the clock?”
“I really think there’s something in there. I think that’s why the clock doesn’t work. Although, how something dropped into the gears…” Lottie’s tongue stuck out as she stilled and shined a flashlight into the clock open in front of her.
David peered into it. The insides were brass, similar to Otis. No wonder Lottie had tried to connect the two. And the gears all seemed to be in perfect order.
Lottie picked up a pair of tweezers and reached into the clock, squeezing past gears. David flexed his hand—there was no way his would fit in there.
Leaving Lottie to work, David stepped into the kitchen and immediately into Sadie’s personal space. Wow, talk about a tiny room. “Can I help?”
“In my huge kitchen?” Sadie stretched her arms out and bumped him then gently pushed him out. “Thank you, but I’ve got it.”
Sadie stepped out with him, her eyes landing on Lottie. A contented expression flashed across her face briefly before she pulled in her bottom lip and the wrinkles in her forehead deepened.
As David stood next to Lottie, Cuatro stretched up on his hind legs and put his front paws on his arm. He picked him up, and he snuggled into his chest. Cuatro had grown since he’d dropped him off a little over ten days ago. David scratched under the kitten’s chin, and he purred, lifting his head so he could find the perfect spot.
Sadie watched him as she carried three glasses of ice water to the table, the weight of her gaze heavy, endearing. Time seemed to stand still.
David smiled. Hopefully, more smolder than goofy, but it must have worked, because Sadie’s forehead relaxed.
She set the glasses down and turned to David. The spicy scent of her shampoo filled the space between them, and heat built in his chest as she stepped closer. He could reach out and touch her.
Except small paws pushed off David’s chest, forcing him to step back.
He’d completely forgotten he held the kitten in his arms.
David tried to catch the cat, but the small ball of fur star-fished in midair only to land next to Lottie on the table, knocking one of the glasses of water over. Ice and water splashed, and Cuatro jumped out of the way, spraying water over Lottie and David.
Lottie jumped as the icy liquid coated her arm, and she dropped the flashlight and tweezers she’d been holding into the clock.
“Oh no!” Lottie’s wail could raise all the alarms. She stood up quickly, knocking her chair over. “Cuatro! Look what you made me do.”
She reached into the clock and picked up the flashlight, shining it inside the clock again.
“I dropped the t-t-tweezers into the clock. It will never work now.” Lottie threw the flashlight on the floor, ran down the hall to her room, and slammed the door.
David picked up Cuatro and set him on the floor then retrieved the flashlight. The kitten quickly ran down the hall, heading into another room.
Sadie slipped back into the kitchen and returned with a dish towel and started cleaning up the spill. “I’m so sorry about your shirt.”
David looked down at the water splotches across his chest. “I’d say we’re even now, but this is only a few drops compared to the entire glass I dumped in your lap.”
Sadie didn’t laugh, but she nodded as she scooped the ice back into the glass. “Perhaps you’re right.”
David righted Lottie’s chair and moved the clock, making sure there was no water underneath it. When they’d cleaned up the mess, David followed Sadie to the couch where she sank into it.
“I’m sorry.” David sat next to her.
“Not your fault. Lottie’s been having a lot of meltdowns lately,” Sadie mumbled as she sank deeper into the corner of the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest.
“I probably didn’t help matters. We talked about Jeremy on the way up. Grief can be difficult for anyone to handle. Especially a nine-year-old. Little things will trigger the pain.” He placed his arm around Sadie’s back and pulled her closer. She nestled into his side like she belonged. A comfortable silence lingered between them, until she inhaled, and her shoulders shivered.
“It’s just so much more than that.” Sitting up, she wiped at her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this in front of you. There’s just so much going on, and sometimes it’s hard to hold it all together.”
She scooted back, and the wall she’d built between them this week started coming back up. He had to stop it. He rested his hand on her upper arm. Rubbing up and down slowly. “You have a lot on your plate with the store. The grand reopening, the money due, and you’re a single mom. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. To ask for help.”
Sadie let out a strangled laugh. “If that’s all it was.” She brushed at her cheeks again. A moment passed—it could have been longer—but he waited. His chest squeezed as time ticked by. He wanted her to open up. To let him in, but he couldn’t force it. Couldn’t make her want this relationship. Then, “I found out Doris and Patrick are contesting the adoption.”
“What?” That couldn’t be.
Sadie leaned back. Pulled her feet up, placed her arms on top of her knees. Lowered her head. She’d opened up but then physically backed away. David gently pulled her leg toward him.
Sadie’s glassy eyes looked at him. His hand tightened on her calf. “This is garbage. They shouldn’t contest your adoption. Do they have brains? Eyes in their heads? I’ve only been working at the hardware store for a month, and I know you are an incredible mother.”
Sadie inhaled a shaky breath, and David ran his hand up to her knee and back to her ankle.
The muscles in her legs relaxed as David continued to run his fingers up and down. “I called my lawyer. He’s not worried. Says it’s an open-and-shut case. Not only do I have Jeremy’s written wishes, but I have a job, a home, a support system. Lottie is thriving here. But, David?—”
“No buts. None. Don’t go down that path. You are a fantastic mother. The best that Lottie could have.” David rubbed his hand up and down her calf again, the soft material of her leggings like butter.
Sadie relaxed under his touch, even as she shook her head and wiped her face. “I’m not Bonnie. She was such an incredible mother. Confident, calm, loving.”
“And so are you. You might not be Lottie’s birth mom, but you will make sure that little girl grows up knowing that not only did her birth parents love and adore her, but you do, too. Look at these photos on the wall.” David gestured to the photos on the wall behind him. “Look at all the people who love her. She will grow up knowing that kind of love.”
Sadie closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the couch.
“Thank you.” Sadie lifted her nose in the air and sat up. “Do you smell that?”
David inhaled. “Smoke?”
“Oh no!” Sadie scrambled to her feet and raced to the kitchen. David followed right behind her. Light gray smoke filled the air and Sadie pulled a dish towel out of a drawer and waved it in the air.
David opened the front door, and a breeze rushed in. Sadie turned the air vent over the stove up and opened the oven door.
The garlic bread sat on the cookie sheet, completely charred. She pulled it out and set it on the stove. A nervous laugh hiccupped out of her.
Not good. David shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure what to do. Comfort her? Hug her? Escape out the front door?
“This is rich. I can’t even cook dinner…how on earth am I supposed to care for a little girl? Maybe Doris is right? I mean, the store is crumbling, and if I fail, I lose everything. My home, my job, my income, my savings.” Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose. Laughter and tears mixed together.
David wrapped his arms around Sadie, pulling her into a tight hug. She clung to him as her breath puffed on his neck. She snuggled closer, her breath calming, evening out, and her body relaxing.
Was this what home felt like? Because in this moment, David could see a future, different than anything he’d imagined before, but one where he could step in and support this incredible woman. Where he’d have the right to offer her comfort like this and so much more.
“I’m here, Sadie. Whatever you need.” It was lame. Her entire life hung in the balance. What could he really offer her? “Seriously, just say the word. More hours in the store? Consider it done. A written recommendation? I can do that. The tweezers out of the clock? I’ll figure out how to get it working.”
Somehow, he’d solve the clock problem. Someone had to know something about clocks. He’d ask around.
“For right now”—Sadie tightened her hands around his back—“this is enough.”
David closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of her head. He could stay here as long as she wanted. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Eventually, Sadie stepped out of his embrace. She wiped her face once more with a nervous chuckle. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. Not with me.”
She turned away from him and dumped the bread in the trash. “What now?”
“We could make more bread.” David eyed the loaf of fresh bread.
“No, I mean for you. If you aren’t going back to Costa Rica, then what will you do next?”
Wasn’t that the question of the month? “I don’t know.”
“You could stay?” She held his gaze. “In Heritage.”
With her?
It wasn’t the time to ask. Especially after tonight. The time he’d spent holding her in his arms, comforting her—it sure made staying in Heritage appealing.
Sadie started filling a plate with spaghetti and topped it with meat sauce and then handed it to David. “I’m sure your sisters would love to have you stay. Free babysitting and all.”
“Free babysitting?”
“Please tell me you take the kids sometimes. Come on, Uncle David, step up.” She held out the plate.
Maybe it was time to think about Heritage as home and the potential future here.
He accepted the plate full of spaghetti, sans garlic bread, a shy smile on Sadie’s face—Heritage might have some perks he hadn’t considered before.