Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Lily
“I can’t figure out if you’re staring at that step because it owes you money, or because you’re contemplating how to fix it,” Tom said from the driveway.
He was carrying two cups of coffee and a tin of food again.
“It’s got an attitude,” Lily replied, managing a small smile.
Tom wandered closer, crossing the street with an easy gait. There was something unhurried about Tom, like he moved on his own timeline, immune to the rush of the world.
“You thinking of fixing it?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Thinking about thinking about it.”
Tom chuckled. “That’s progress.”
Lily looked at the step again, her hands falling to her sides. “I don’t know where to start.”
Tom squinted at the wood. “Step’s not the real problem, is it?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she stared at the house, the chipped shutters, the hollow doorframe. Her gaze slid to the empty swing hanging from the tree—one of David’s last projects.
“Want help?” Tom asked, his tone soft.
Lily hesitated, then nodded. “I think I do.”
They started slow. That morning, they pried up the step and examined the rot beneath it. Tom brought over tools, and Lily fetched lemonade. They worked in companionable silence, interrupted only by the occasional bark from Tom’s retriever, Max, who parked himself on the grass like a supervisor.
Fixing the step turned into repainting the porch.
Before long, they had a routine. Each morning that week, Tom arrived with coffee, and they tackled some other small tasks around the house while Anna and the kids focused on their schoolwork.
Lily knew she should be going to the studio and working on pottery, getting it up and running for the weekend, but she still couldn’t bring herself to do it completely. Instead, this was a good distraction.
Lily’s hands grew calloused, her skin tanned, her shoulders stronger.
So did her spirit. Working side by side with Tom was nice because he radiated a strong, empathetic silence.
Lily laughed to herself at the thought—it made no sense to put words to it, but there was something about Tom that made her feel comfortable and safe.
Friday morning, Tom showed up with two breakfast sandwiches and a grin. “Thought you deserved a treat.”
Lily accepted the food with a smile. “Thanks. I didn’t realize how hungry I’ve been.”
They sat on the porch steps, the new boards firm and even. The smell of bacon mingled with the sweet scent of jasmine from the front bushes.
“Funny thing,” Tom said between bites. “You spend so long trying not to feel the pain, you forget what it’s like to feel anything else.”
Lily nodded. “It’s like I was waiting for someone to tell me it was okay to move again.”
He looked at her with kind eyes beneath thick brows. “You don’t need permission, Lily. You just need momentum.”
She stared out across the lawn. “I think I’m starting to believe that.”
A breeze stirred the wind chimes David had hung years ago. The notes danced through the air, high and tinkling. She closed her eyes and let them wash over her.
“Why do you keep showing up?”
Tom tapped the rim of his glass. “Because I know what it’s like to lose someone and feel like the whole world stopped spinning. And because I saw you looking at that step like it held the answers.”
She laughed, the sound surprising them both. “It kind of did.”
It felt nice to be seen by someone, someone who understood and had been through the loss the same as her. Tom got it and knew how to broach it without making her feel like she was messing everything up. She needed that gentle grace right now more than she had ever realized.
Lily heard a noise behind her, and her head turned just in time to see the screen door crack open just an inch. Two small faces peeked through the gap: one with a mop of dark curls and wide, inquisitive eyes, and the other with a sandy ponytail and a look of contained excitement barely held at bay.
She giggled to herself, trying to keep the smile off her face as she looked back at them. The twins leaned into the opening with identical expressions of awe as they spotted Max in the yard. Their eyes lit up.
“Can we come outside and play with the dog?” Nora asked, her voice soft and polite, but brimming with anticipation.
Tom turned to her with a broad smile and called back, “Max would love the attention.”
That was all they needed. The door flung open wide, and the twins bolted out like small, laughing hurricanes, their feet barely touching the ground. Max’s head popped up in surprise and wagged his tail harder, before he got up and bounded toward them.
Anna followed more slowly behind, stepping out onto the porch with a sheepish look as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing at Lily first, then Tom.
“They’ve been cooped up all day. Too much learning, not enough running around. They’re bursting at the seams.”
Tom chuckled. “I can see that. Don’t worry, Max can keep up.”
“I’m Anna, by the way,” she added, stepping forward and extending her hand toward Tom. “Lily’s daughter.”
“Tom,” he said warmly, shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”
The sound of laughter erupted across the lawn as Max raced in circles around Blaze and Nora. Blaze chased after him, while Nora giggled and dropped to her knees, trying to lure the dog in with a gentle whistle and a waggle of the stick Max had abandoned.
Anna watched them for a moment before turning back. “They’re really excited about pottery class tomorrow, Mom. It’s all they’ve been talking about all day.”
Tom raised his eyebrows, turning to Lily with new curiosity. “Pottery studio?”
Lily flushed slightly, as if she’d been caught in the middle of something she hadn’t planned on explaining. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said quickly. “I just have a little setup in town. I do small batch work, mostly for the local market. And… I teach, sometimes.”
“She has a class for kids tomorrow,” Anna added helpfully. “Which these two are very much looking forward to.”
“I’m not remotely prepared,” Lily admitted, glancing down at her bare feet against the warm planks of the porch. “I said yes before I really thought it through.”
Tom grinned. “Can I sign up?”
Lily blinked. “What?”
“I’m serious,” he said, leaning on the railing beside her. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to throw clay. I mean, it looks relaxing… like messy therapy.”
“I’m not sure I’m the right person for that kind of responsibility,” she said with a crooked smile, still trying to wrap her head around the idea of him sitting at a wheel, covered in clay.
“She’s being modest,” Anna said lightly. “Mom has been running classes for tourists and locals for decades. She’s the best person to teach you. She’s nothing short of a legend.”
“I promise to be an obedient student,” he said. “And I’ll bring bribes like coffee and croissants.”
That made her laugh, a small, genuine sound that slipped out before she could stop it. “All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Deal.”
They watched in comfortable silence as the children ran loops across the yard with Max. The dog wagged and leaped and barked with joy. He was in his element, surrounded by energy, affection, and the freedom of an open space.
“Max usually doesn’t get this much excitement,” Tom said. “I’m definitely not that active with him.”
Nora threw the stick high into the air, and Max caught it in one fluid motion, prompting a cheer from Blaze. “He’s like a superhero dog!” the boy yelled.
“Max!” Nora called out, “Sit!”
To everyone’s surprise, Max did exactly that, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he waited for further instruction.
Blaze immediately launched into a routine, calling out commands and laughing every time Max obeyed. Sit, lie down, shake—Max did it all, tail thumping the ground like a drumbeat of pure joy.
Lily watched the unfold, arms loosely crossed, but her posture relaxed as she soaked in the sun, the smell of cut grass, and the sound of children laughing.
She didn’t even realize how long she had been standing there, rooted and still, until Anna brushed her shoulder lightly.
“Tom, you’re not helping my case for not getting them a dog,” Anna teased.
“I would be the wrong person to ask to advocate against getting a dog. I’ve had one all my life. Max is such a good dog. I rescued him from the shelter if you can believe it.”
“He’s beautiful. You’ve trained him well, too, it seems.”
“I didn’t even know he could do those things, really,” Tom laughed. “The kids are teaching me things today.”
“They’ll love to hear that,” Anna said with a smile.
Lily smiled, too, glad that things were finally feeling easy again.
But right now, with Max rolling in the grass and Blaze shouting about how he wanted to become a “dog whisperer,” and Nora tying blades of grass into tiny bracelets for his paw, it all just felt… good.
Not perfect. Not permanent. But good.
And she wasn’t drowning in guilt for feeling that way.
She stepped off the porch and walked toward the children, who barely noticed her arrival as they were too busy trying to teach Max a synchronized dance routine.
“You’re going to make him dizzy,” she said, laughing as Max spun in circles on command.
“He loves it,” Nora insisted.
“He does,” Blaze confirmed. “He’s like a golden tornado.”
“Golden Tornado!” Nora echoed, giggling wildly.
“New superhero name?” Tom asked as he came up beside Lily with a stick for Max in his hand.
Blaze nodded solemnly. “Max the Golden Tornado. Defender of squeaky toys and peanut butter.”
Tom made a big show of saluting. “We are honored to be in your presence, sir.”
Max barked once, wagging his tail furiously, clearly enjoying the attention as much as the exercise.
Anna wandered down and sat in the grass near the flower bed, watching the kids with a fond smile, her fingers tugging idly at the hem of her shirt. “I think we’ll sleep well tonight.”
“You better sleep well tonight,” Lily teased, glancing over at the twins. “Because tomorrow is going to be chaos and I’ll need your help.”
“Organized chaos,” Anna said. “With clay.”
“Oh no,” Lily groaned. “I forgot to prep the wheels.”
“I’ll help,” Tom offered immediately.
Lily raised a skeptical brow. “Do you even know how to wedge clay?”
“Absolutely not. But I’m willing to be taught. I’ve got strong arms and zero ego about learning.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “That sounds suspiciously like a pitch.”
“It was,” he said shamelessly. “Did it work?”
To her surprise, it had. She nodded, a smile breaking out.
“Well then, rookie, I’ll take you up on that. Can you get to my studio around eight tomorrow morning?” she asked. “Let’s see how you handle cleanup.”
“I’ll be there with coffee and croissants for certain,” he answered.
They spent the rest of the hour outside. The light shifted gradually from gold to amber, and eventually to the soft, silvery hues of early twilight. Fireflies began to emerge in quiet flickers, the first whispers of night making their presence known.
Max eventually collapsed under the shade of the tree near the fence, panting with satisfaction, his head resting on Nora’s knee as she braided flowers into his collar.
Blaze had taken to drawing battle maps in the dirt with a stick, explaining in great detail how the Golden Tornado would save the yard from invisible invaders made of mud.
Tom helped Lily gather up the makeshift toys while Anna rounded up the kids, promising more time with Max tomorrow if they got their teeth brushed without protest.
Lily stood at the edge of the yard, watching as Tom and Max disappeared back to their house. She walked inside and could hear Anna giving the kids their marching orders for showers. She smiled.
Today had been a good day, and she felt good about tomorrow, too. All of it had snuck up on her, as if she’d just gone from grieving and lost to happy and putting one foot in front of the other overnight. She knew that’s not how things worked, but regardless, it felt nice.