Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
The following week, Tisha sat at the counter in the café, her laptop open before her.
They’d cleaned the place up and passed health inspection, but customers had been slow to trickle in.
Thankfully, she was able to use the downtime to complete her application for graduate school.
She’d planned to take classes online once she got settled in Redemption, but Sadie’s challenges at school and making pies for the festival had all shoved her plans aside.
Now, with life returning to a semblance of normalcy and spring on the horizon, she decided to go for it.
The door opened and she turned, her heart lifting in anticipation. It wasn’t just any customer—it was her favorite. Ethan strode in, his presence lighting up the room as he scanned the café.
“You here by yourself?” he asked, a warm smile spreading across his face.
“Owen is meeting the grocery-delivery truck from Anchorage out back. Right now it’s just me. Charlie’s still helping her family clean their place up.”
Ethan brushed his lips against hers.
“I love that you can kiss me almost anytime you want.”
“And I love you,” he said.
She’d never tire of his kisses. Or his tender words. They were a balm to her soul. How could she have ever doubted their connection?
“What are you doing?” He sat down beside her, glancing at her screen.
“I’ve decided to apply for graduate school. I really want to get a master’s degree in counseling,” she said, her voice tinged with both excitement and trepidation.
“I’m sure you can do that. Do you want to say why? And maybe tell me about it over a slice of chocolate peanut-butter pie?”
“I’ll get that for you in just a minute,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ear. “We need a local counselor around here. Pie doesn’t solve everything.”
“Are you sure? I feel like pie has played a significant role in our lives lately.”
She gestured to the mailing envelope he carried under his arm. “What’s that?”
“Oh,” he cleared his throat, opening the tab and pulling out a gorgeous magazine.
“Oh wow. What’s this?”
“The latest issue of Florida Living.” He slid it across the counter, his expression serious.
“Oh, is this Kaylee’s story about Adeline?”
He nodded.
“May I?”
“Please do. I put a sticky tab on it. It’s the cover story.” She flipped open to the marker, gasping at the beautiful picture of Adeline carrying a surfboard out of the water. The inset photo showed her reading to children, and another featured her enjoying drinks with friends.
“It’s well written,” Ethan said, his voice thick with emotion.
The two sat quietly as she read both pages, absorbing the impact of a generous human gone too soon. When she closed the magazine and carefully handed it back, she gently squeezed his arm. “I’m really glad you said yes to that. Have you shown it to Brody yet?”
“No, I brought it to you first. I’ll let him look at it after school.”
“I’ll be curious to hear how he reacts.” She saved her progress online, then shut down her laptop. “And I’m sure her parents are very pleased about the article.”
“Very. We just FaceTimed. Her dad couldn’t hold it together, but I can tell he’s thrilled. They thanked me for letting Kaylee do it.”
“Have you heard from Kaylee or Adam?” Tisha asked.
“Just a short note with the magazine.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry that she’s gone, but they were right. It’s important that we let her legacy live on, and that her generosity is evident to those around her.”
“This does, in fact, call for pie.”
“Wait.” He reached for her hand, his touch sending warmth coursing through her. “If you ever want to know more about her, you can ask.”
“All right. Would you like some whipped cream with your pie?”
“Please.”
“How about coffee?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll be right back.”
As she moved into the kitchen, she felt a rush of gratitude for this moment.
She was finally pursuing her dreams, and Ethan was right there with her, encouraging her every step of the way.
The thought of becoming a counselor filled her with hope, not just for herself but for the community she loved.
She wanted to help others find their way, just as Ethan had helped her find hers.
When she carried out the pie and coffee, she found Ethan frowning, scrolling through his phone.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, careful not to spill his mug of coffee.
“Oh, the news station in Anchorage is doing a story about Trevor’s plane. Evidently, the landslide after the glacier calved moved some things around, and they’ve identified the plane as belonging to him.”
Tisha gasped. “Babe, that’s a big deal, right?”
“Yeah.” Ethan nodded, thumbing the story away and putting his phone in his pocket.
“But I’m guessing no remains?”
“Not yet.”
“So the mystery isn’t really solved?”
“No. But I’m going to go speak to his mom anyway.”
“Oh, that’s very brave of you.”
He lifted one shoulder, then reached for his napkin and fork. “I don’t know about brave. We both need closure.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
“So how did you know that chocolate peanut butter would be my favorite flavor?” he asked, his fork loaded and halfway to his mouth.
“Well, it’s rich.”
“Ha, that’s cute.”
“I didn’t mean monetarily.” She nudged his shoulder with her hand. “I meant deep. Textured. Sweet on the inside, but a little bit of a crust—”
“Yeah, this is not exactly the swoon-worthy description I’d hoped for.”
“I’m a baker, not a romance novelist.”
He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. “Have I mentioned lately that I love you exactly as you are? You are the best surprise of my life.”
She kissed him back, savoring the sweet taste of chocolate and peanut butter lingering on his lips.
Sitting in the café on a quiet morning, sharing an ordinary slice of pie, a wave of emotion swept over her and nearly took her breath away.
She had never imagined she could feel so deeply for someone new, not after losing Chase.
And the thought of building a life with Ethan filled her with a renewed sense of purpose.
She squeezed his hand, knowing that together, they could face anything.
It had to be here somewhere.
Ethan stood in front of the closet in his childhood bedroom, scanning the boxes stacked high on the shelves.
His parents had done a great job saving relics from his past—trophies, quilts stitched from T-shirts from all the basketball tournaments he’d played in, and photo albums Mom had started in a valiant effort to keep up.
Now things were stashed in shoeboxes, saved on flash drives, or lost in the ever-elusive cloud.
But MJ’s piece of jade…He must’ve hidden it somewhere out of sight to avoid the sting of how Mrs. Kelly had reacted the last time he tried to reach out.
Today would be different.
The wreckage of Trevor’s plane had been identified, and Ethan had worked hard to process his feelings. He’d embraced a new relationship with Tisha, God had mended the broken places in his heart, and now he felt emotionally fortified to try again.
He found a box marked with his old address in Florida.
It wasn’t the one he’d been searching for, but curiosity tugged at him.
He found a pocketknife from middle school on his dresser and slashed open the packing tape on the cardboard.
He froze when he recognized Adeline’s handwriting on a note addressed to his parents.
Hey, I felt like you guys should have this, just in case things go south for me.
I don’t know that Ethan will have the presence of mind to save some of the most precious notes and cards and letters.
So just in case no one reminds him that he’s an amazing husband and a wonderful father, I know you’ll take up the mantle. XOXO Adeline.
He blinked back tears as he slowly pulled out the stack of papers inside. Drawings from Brody—stick figures of them at the beach, playing basketball, even a remarkably decent rendering of a helicopter hovering over the ocean.
There were cards too. Adeline had included romantic notes he’d given her over the years—for Mother’s Day, her birthday, and their anniversary.
Thank You, Lord, for Adeline, he prayed silently. Brody and I were blessed to have her, even for a little while.
He sifted through more. Church crafts and Father’s Day cards, memories etched in construction paper and crayon. One stood out—a framed photo of Brody and Ethan in Halloween costumes. He smiled through the ache. Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker. That had been a good year.
Setting the photo aside to show Brody later, he refocused on the task at hand.
He reached for the box labeled with the year MJ and his dad had passed away. His stomach churned as he opened it. There it was—the piece of jade. Its edges were worn smooth from the months he’d carried it in his pocket after MJ’s accident.
Ethan picked it up and held it for a moment, letting the weight of it settle in his palm.
“Lord, give me the words. I need Your help with this.”
He slipped the rock into his pocket just like he used to when he was a teenager and headed downstairs.
Dad was at the desk, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the newspaper spread out in front of him. His brow furrowed as he scanned a page, the soft rustle of paper filling the quiet space.
“There you are,” he said, glancing up. “I was just about to come find you. Did you see this article about Trevor Kelly’s plane?”
Ethan nodded, his chest tightening at the mention. “I did. I’m actually on my way to visit Mrs. Kelly. Does she still live in the same place?”
Dad’s expression shifted, his usual stoicism softening into something more tender. “Proud of you, Son. Good for you. Give her my best, will you? Tell her we’re praying there’s a miracle, that she gets to see Trevor again.”
“I will.” Ethan hesitated, his hand gripping the back of a chair. “I’ll be back in time to pick up Brody from school. No worries.”
Dad smiled faintly. “I’m sure you will.”
Ethan climbed into the Suburban and worked his way through town. He drove a few miles north to a quiet, established neighborhood. People were out moving damaged household goods and picking up debris. The subdivision was a patchwork of winter stillness and bustling recovery efforts.
Ethan drove three blocks straight back like his parents had driven him countless times when he’d been dropped off at the Kellys’ house for movies, an overnight stay, or a pickup game of basketball out in the cul-de-sac.
The hoop was still there, the net gone and the rim rusty.
He parked behind a well-loved minivan. The driveway had been cleared and the pathway to the door shoveled.
A heart-shaped wreath made from rustic branches and a burlap ribbon with the word LOVE carved in wooden letters hung on the front door.
After he cut the engine, Ethan sat in the silence of the Suburban. His fingers brushed the smooth jade in his pocket as he whispered, “Lord, be with me. Let my words be Yours, not mine.”
He climbed out, the crunch of his boots on the icy path breaking the stillness.
A sharp yip came from the other side of the door, followed by muffled footsteps.
When it opened, Mrs. Kelly stood there, a Chihuahua nestled protectively under her arm.
Her silver hair framed her face in a stylish bob, and her chin trembled as recognition dawned.
“Ethan McGuire,” she said, her voice catching. “My goodness, is that you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled softly. “How are you, Mrs. Kelly?”
“I’m fine, fine,” she said, though the words sounded reflexive, not entirely convincing. “Just surprised, is all. Come on in.”
She stepped aside, the warmth of the house enveloping him. Praise music drifted faintly from the kitchen, the notes a balm to his nerves.
“Don’t mind Oscar,” she said, nodding toward the growling Chihuahua. “He’s all bark, no bite.”
Ethan chuckled, though the sound was strained. “I’ll take your word for it.”
He hovered near the door. “I don’t want to intrude. I just…I have something I need to say.”
Her brow furrowed, and she gestured toward the living room. “Sit, please.”
“No, ma’am. I won’t stay long.” He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting hers again. “I came by years ago, right after…after you lost your husband and MJ. I didn’t handle that well.”
Her face softened, the pain in her eyes tempered by understanding. “Oh, Ethan, you were just a boy. No one expects a child to know what to do with grief like that.”
He reached into his pocket, pulling out the piece of jade. Its green surface gleamed in the soft light as he extended it toward her.
“I’d like to try again,” he said quietly. “This belonged to MJ. He always talked about carving it into something, and I thought…I thought it should be here, with you.”
Her hand trembled as she took it, her fingers brushing against his. “Oh, Ethan,” she whispered, her voice breaking. A single tear slid down her cheek. “That’s so thoughtful of you. Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I lost my wife less than two years ago—melanoma. And now it’s just me and Brody. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a spouse and a child, but…I know grief. And I know I didn’t say or do the right things back then. I’m so sorry if I hurt you.”
She clutched the jade between both hands. “Ethan, you didn’t hurt me. You were grieving, just like we all were.” She gave a sad, soft laugh. “MJ always did have big dreams, didn’t he? I don’t think anyone could’ve carved this stone, but I’ll treasure it. Thank you.”
He cleared his throat, his own tears threatening to spill.
“If it’s God’s will, we’ll find Trevor. But if not…” Her voice faltered. “I’ve made peace with my losses. It’s taken years, but I’ve learned to trust that God can use even the worst things for good.”
Mrs. Kelly’s gaze was steady despite the tears streaming down her face. “He’s a good, good Father, Ethan. I believe that with all my heart. And I believe He has plans for you and Brody, more than you could ever imagine.”
Ethan stepped forward, pulling her into a hug. They stood there, bound by shared sorrow and unshaken faith. When they finally pulled apart, Mrs. Kelly patted his arm, her eyes shining.
“You’re a good man, Ethan McGuire,” she said. “Thank you for coming. And thank you for loving my boys like they were your brothers.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “Always, Mrs. Kelly. Always.”