Sean (Garfield, The Next Generation #1)

Chapter 1

“Insert the orange-tipped wires into the orange holes.” Sean shook his head as he read the faded instructions aloud, squinting at the project before him.

What orange? There wasn’t any orange or any of the other four colors that the ragged booklet mentioned.

Stupid tree had been a twenty-dollar garage sale find four years ago, but there was no telling how old it really was.

Any color that might have existed when it was new was long gone.

Its age hadn’t mattered to his wife though.

Brittany had fallen in love with the look of the flocked branches, convinced that a new one would cost five times what the used one did.

Sean remembered the pleading look in her emerald green eyes on that warm June day.

He’d been frustrated at the time, and he was frustrated now.

Even so, the memory was one he treasured.

They’d set out that morning, as they often did, for a drive through the Ohio countryside.

There was no set plan other than to see where the road took them.

Maybe they’d stop at an Amish community for lunch.

Maybe they’d grab sandwiches at a fast-food joint and find a pretty roadside park.

Fifty miles from home, they’d spotted the garage sale sign and the tree standing tall in the driveway.

Brittany’s insistence that they haul the thing home had irritated Sean.

They’d been driving his compact car. How were they supposed to fit a huge box of Christmas greenery into such a small space?

But for Brittany, he’d made a way.

For Brittany, he’d always made a way.

Love was like that.

His attention came back to the scattered piles of artificial green and white foliage. How had she always managed to make it look perfect?

Dumb question.

Christmas had been her favorite time of the year with bits and pieces of North Pole décor on display right next to her meager collection of fall and Thanksgiving decorations.

For some, the first Saturday in November might be the time to sort through jack-o-lanterns and scarecrows, but for Brittany it meant the beginning of Christmas, complete with the tree.

Sean’s arguments about each holiday having its own season amounted to nothing.

For Brittany, having the Christmas tree standing in the corner was just one more thing to be grateful for while they enjoyed their Thanksgiving dinner.

Sean looked around the duplex. The living room bled neatly into the kitchen.

Brick walls painted white added a sense of spaciousness to the rooms and blended neatly with the white appliances in the kitchen.

The living room furniture, upholstered in dark brown microfiber, a wedding gift from Sean’s mom and dad, was just beginning to show the wear of daily use and was saved from being drab by the colorful pillows Brittany had found at the local department store.

He closed his eyes. Once the tree was up, he’d have to locate the red-and-white Christmas pillows his wife had loved so much. That would be all he could handle tonight.

For about the forty millionth time in the last three hundred fifteen days, Sean’s sigh turned into a pointless prayer.

Why God? Why would You take her away from us?

The us had him jerking back to the present.

His ten-and-a-half-month-old son, Jace, slept down the hall. Before he woke in the morning, the living room would be transformed into the winter wonderland the mother he’d never know would want for him.

He owed it to his wife to keep her traditions alive.

Sean studied the branches that he’d scattered across the floor. Some were plain, some had plastic red berries attached to the end, and some had a pinecone. He could do this.

The shorter ones went on top, then they increased in size toward the bottom rows. He just needed to count the holes in the tree trunk and make some piles. He was a college graduate. His degree might be in Theology, but how hard could this be?

Thirty minutes later, he stood in the middle of the same mess, tempted to admit defeat. Whatever system Brittany’d had for assembling this tree escaped him.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Sean stuffed the bits and pieces back into the box.

He’d buy a new tree tomorrow. Jace was too young to know the difference anyway. Maybe he and his son needed a few new traditions. Maybe, if he tried really hard, mid-December could come to be more about Jace’s birthday than the anniversary of Brittany’s death.

Sean’s phone rang, and he glanced at the screen.

What was it about mothers? If he didn’t know better, he’d think God was watching out for him, nudging Mom to call right when he needed her loving, steady presence.

I hold you in My hands, son.

The limb Sean held slipped from his fingers as a tear ran from the corner of his eye. He wasn’t going there. If God cared anything about him, he wouldn’t be raising a baby by himself.

He waited through four more rings. As much as he might need the sound of his mother’s voice tonight, he didn’t need his parents feeling sorrier for him than they already did.

“Da.”

And now Jace was awake.

Perfect.

Sean hurried down the hall. The quicker he answered the summons, the better. He could find his pacifier, change his diaper, or get him a fresh bottle. Anything to get him back to sleep so he could clean up the mess in the living room without the help of inquisitive little hands.

He stepped into the night-light-lit room. “I’m here, buddy, what’s wrong?”

Jace stood in the crib, feet spread, chubby hands clasped around the railing for balance, bouncing in place. “Da Da Da.”

One sniff was all it took to answer the what’s wrong question. “Jace Alexander Conklin, what’s up with that?”

The baby leaned into the railing and held out his hands. “Da.”

Sean had hoped to preserve the darkness that would convince his son to go back to sleep. One more failed wish for the evening. He turned on the overhead and lifted Jace out of the crib. On the changing table the boy blew bubbles, chattered happily, and squirmed under Sean’s restraint.

Once the job was done, Sean used a wipe on his hands, located the pacifier in the middle of the blankets, laid his son down, and patted his back. Experience told him it wouldn’t be that easy, but it was worth a try.

“Up.”

“Sleepy time, bud.”

Jace pushed the pacifier out of his mouth and puckered his lips.

Sean tucked the blanket around him and hurried to turn off the light. Outraged wails followed him back to the living room.

Sean scrubbed his hands down his face. Jace had been sleeping through the night for months. For some reason this week had been different. Could he be picking up on Sean’s agitation at the upcoming anniversary?

He sank into the sofa trying hard to ignore the crying from the other room.

Maybe he was as much a failure at fatherhood as he’d been a minister and a husband.

He reached for the phone. Maybe all he needed was someone to talk sense to him.

Maybe he needed more in his life than a new Christmas tree. His fingers hovered over the screen.

Maybe he needed the help he’d been running from for months.

No maybe about it. He punched the button and connected the call he’d ignored earlier.

“Sean.”

His emotions crumbled at the sound of her voice. “Mom.”

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

And there was Mom and that sixth sense. On top of her game and ready to go to battle for those she loved. Knowing without knowing that he needed to hear her voice. Right now, he needed so much more than that. He swallowed his tears and his pride. “Is that offer of my old room still available?”

“Oh, my baby, of course it is, and Benjamin’s will be a perfect nursery.”

Sean flinched at the mention of his twin. Benjamin, the golden child. Benjamin and Kinsley, building the perfect life that Sean used to dream of. His brother would never run home to Mom and Dad.

Sean wasn’t like him. Or Dad. He’d never seen himself as the weak one. One more revelation to add to this red-letter year.

“How soon can we expect you?”

Sean took another look around the duplex, overwhelmed by the vision of Brittany in every corner of every room.

Laughing while they shared a meal at the coffee table while watching a favorite movie.

Her eyes wide with wonder as she held up the positive pregnancy test.

The determination on her face as she followed his mom’s recipe for the dessert he loved.

He closed his eyes. It wasn’t the tree, it wasn’t even the daily uncertainty of raising Jace on his own. It was the memories and the knowledge that the future that he and Brittany had planned was gone. If he didn’t make a change, he was going to go crazy. “As soon as we can get there.”

“Your job—”

“Won’t be a problem.” Sean would cross the bridge of telling his parents that he’d given up his youth ministry six months ago if and when necessity dictated. For now, getting away from the memories was what mattered. “I’ll get a plan together over the next couple of days and call you. I love you.”

***

FRIDAY NOVEMBER 1st, Garfield, OK

Monica Jenson leaned over the diagram on her computer and highlighted two more spaces. Ten down, twenty to go. Planning an event this size in less than a month was a stretch, but she could make it work. She would make it work. When her phone rang, she reached for it absently.

“Hello.”

“Monica, this is Sherry Hascal. I got your reminder text about nursery this Sunday. I hate to do this to you, but Richy has the flu.”

Monica closed her eyes and tried to hide the frustration that whispered through her lips. She wasn’t sure she did a very good job. She minimized the diagram and opened the spreadsheet containing the church nursery/toddler schedule. “Not a problem. I can get the spot covered.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.”

“You take care of Richy. I’ll say a prayer for both of you.” Monica swiped the call closed and studied her list of volunteers. Who could she juggle into Sunday’s spot?