Chapter 2
Two weeks later
Sean stretched beneath the sheets, releasing a scent that was both comforting and confusing. With his face buried in the pillow, he drew in a deep breath, inhaling a mixture of flowers and sunshine that reminded him of home. But above the comfort of home, something sour stirred.
Brittany was allergic to scented laundry products.
He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his bleary eyes. The soft morning light filtering through the blinds illuminated the room.
Home.
He was home.
Not the home that he and Brittany had made, but his childhood home.
Shame stirred underneath the fatigue. He was a twenty-eight-year-old man who, instead of standing on his own two feet, had come running home to his parents like a whipped puppy. Would this move accomplish anything? Running from Ohio wouldn’t cure his grief. He’d just relocated it.
His gaze traveled the space that he’d been too tired to care about the night before.
His old desk crouched in the corner of the room, a stack of books resting in the shadows.
A five-drawer chest, its surface covered in trophies of all shapes and sizes.
Walls papered in old sports posters and event flyers.
Sean sank back into the full-sized mattress and twisted.
The thing still felt molded to his form after all these years.
He stretched and yawned, surprised at how well he’d slept.
The drive that should have lasted fourteen hours had taken him two days, thanks to juggling little Jace’s needs.
It had been an exercise in patience. Jace was a good baby, but he was at the age where he wanted nearly constant attention. Sometimes his wants were really loud.
They’d pulled into his parents’ driveway in Garfield at eleven the night before. The second the car stopped, Jace screamed at the top of his lungs.
Mom and Dad had been waiting for them at the open front door, and even before Sean could free himself from the seatbelt and climb from behind the wheel, Mom had rushed to the furious little boy in the back seat.
“Come to Nana, sweet baby.” Mom fumbled with the straps, the unfamiliar task made harder by the straining little boy and the dim glow of the dome light. “Hush now. Let me get you out of this thing and we’ll go into the house.”
Sean slipped from the car and stepped into his father’s welcoming embrace, grateful to have the arduous drive behind him.
Dad thumped him on the back. “Good to have you home, son.”
“Good to be home.” Sean released his father as the cries from the back became more impatient. “Here, let me do it.” He gently nudged his mom out of the way. In a couple of practiced moves, the straps separated and Sean was able to scoop his son free. When he stood, his mom held out her arms.
“Give me.” She reached for her grandson.
But Jace burrowed deeper into his father’s arms.
Mom huffed and put her hands on her hips.
“Don’t get your nose out of joint, Alex.” Dad put his arm around Mom’s shoulders. “The baby’s tired, and I doubt he remembers us. Let’s get our travelers settled.” He motioned to the car. “What do you need for the night?”
“The backpack and the blue suitcase. Everything else can wait till tomorrow.”
By the time Mom led them through the house to Benjamin’s old room, where a crib had been set up, Jace was already half asleep.
Mom pulled a blanket back. “Poor baby.”
“We’re both pretty worn out.” Sean laid him down.
“Hand me a diaper from the bag, will you?” She did, and he made quick work of getting Jace changed and settled with his pacifier.
The little guy’s eyes were closed before they could tiptoe from the room.
Sean pulled the door almost closed and, once they were in the hall, wrapped his mom in a tight hug.
Holding her close, he felt some of the weariness from the trip fall from his shoulders.
“Welcome home, baby.”
She was five-foot-two to his six feet, but she still managed to rock him back and forth. The gentle motion was so comforting, it was all Sean could do not to yawn into her hair. “I’ve missed you, Mom. Thanks for making a place for us.”
She stepped back and gripped his hands. “Dad and I are tickled to have you here for as long as you need. Now let’s get you settled.
Tomorrow’s Sunday, so there’ll be no sleeping in.
” She motioned him to the room across the hall, where the light was on and his bag sat at the foot of the bed.
“Everything’s pretty much where it’s always been.
Wash up and get some rest. We’ll catch up in the morning. ”
He’d crashed hard.
Now, the light coming through the window was getting brighter by the minute.
Sean looked at his watch, then scrambled from the bed.
It was eight o’clock, nine where they’d come from.
Why wasn’t Jace raising the roof? He crept across the hall, determined not to disturb his son if he still slept, but when he peeked in, the crib was empty.
A giggle filtered from up the hall, and Sean followed the sound to the kitchen.
Jace sat in a highchair while Mom played peek-a-boo with a dish towel. Sean watched as she tossed the blue terry cloth over his head.
“Where did my baby go?”
Jace grabbed the corner and threw the cloth to the floor.
“Boo,” Mom said, tickling his belly before she bent for the towel to start the game over.
Sean leaned in the doorway. Maybe this move wouldn’t do a thing for him, but if Jace could reap the benefits of time spent with his grandparents, then it would be worth it.
He yawned, pushing away from the door frame.
Jace turned toward the sound. “Da!” He reached in his direction.
Sean scooped him up and settled him on his hip. “You having fun with Nana?”
Jace buried his face in Sean’s shoulder, then straightened quickly with a wide grin. “Boo.”
He hugged the child close and faced his mom. “I see you didn’t waste any time this morning.”
“We were both awake early. I didn’t see the need to bother you.” She stood. “You want some breakfast? Jace already had a scrambled egg.”
“I can wait on Dad.”
“Dad left for church thirty minutes ago. We’ve still got some time, though. What’s your pleasure?”
“You don’t have to wait on me.”
“I know, but it’s your first morning home. Indulge me.”
He put Jace back in the high chair and handed him a sippy cup. “Eggs and toast are fine.”
While his mother bustled around the kitchen, he took in the familiar space.
He hadn’t been home in nearly two years, but nothing had changed.
The light-yellow walls seemed to amplify the sunshine, while the curtains decorated with bumble bees and the matching cookie jar added the note of whimsy he associated with his mom.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Like a brick. I think my bed remembered me.”
Mom poured eggs into the skillet and stirred the fluffy yellow concoction.
Sean’s mouth began to water. It might be the simplest of dishes, but no one scrambled eggs like his mom.
“Good, I was afraid you’d have trouble unwinding after the drive.” When she was finished, she spooned eggs onto a plate and added a couple of slices of buttered toast. “Eat up. We don’t want to be late for church.”
Sean focused on his breakfast. Being late for morning service was the least of his worries.
It’d been months since he’d stepped inside a church building, and attending this morning was not at the top of his list. But neither was disappointing his folks.
He figured he could fake some enthusiasm for a couple of hours.
His sad spiritual state was a subject for another day.
***
MONICA SPRINTED FROM her front door to the driveway, yanked the car door open, and slid in.
How could it have been sunny less than an hour ago?
She slammed the door against the sudden shower, tossed her purse into the passenger seat, and backed out of the drive.
Church started in thirty minutes, but she liked to get there early to make sure the nursery staff was in place before the first child was dropped off.
Today that responsibility was doubly important since she wasn’t only organizing the volunteers, she was one of them.
The unexpected rain didn’t dampen her mood.
She loved kids. Her busy schedule might keep her from enjoying much of a social life, but she planned to have a house full of her own someday.
Even the possibility of relocating to Arizona hadn’t dulled those hopes.
Maybe God had Mr. Right waiting for her in the next phase of her life.
Be patient.
Monica acknowledged the internal voice of reason. She was hardly an old maid at twenty-five, but that didn’t keep her from reminding God every day that she wasn’t getting any younger. Snuggling the little ones in the nursery helped satisfy that longing on the inside.
She was singing along with the song on the radio when her car gave an odd shudder and jerked towards the shoulder of the road. She turned down the music and heard a series of unfamiliar thumps.
“Oh, what now?”
Monica eased off the road and sat for a second, watching the rain stream down the windshield. She was wearing her paisley-print skirt and open-toed shoes. Even with the umbrella she kept in the car, she was about to get soaked.
No way around it. Monica figured it was a flat tire, but she had to get out to make sure. She opened the door a crack and fumbled with the button on the umbrella. Once it opened, she stepped out into the rain.
A car or two swooshed by as she rounded the nose of her vehicle. The front passenger-side tire was flatter than Mom’s Christmas-morning crepes.
She didn’t waste any time getting back to her seat behind the wheel. Of course, she knew how to change a tire. But knowing the steps and completing them in a downpour were two different things. A smart woman knew when to be independent and when to ask for help, and she was no dummy.
She dug out her phone, thankful that her auto insurance came with roadside assistance.
“Greentree Auto Insurance. How may I help you?”