Chapter 63 Timed Echoes
Timed Echoes
The next morning, after running his usual errands, Jaxon heads to the grocery store to restock his fridge—still recovering from yesterday’s impromptu audition for his nonexistent cooking show.
He moves up and down the aisles with a grocery list in one hand and a whirlwind of questions in his head.
His cart fills, but so does his anxiety.
When he finally reaches the cashier, it hits him like a slap—Sara had always called him from Claire’s phone. There’s no way for her to contact him directly. The only chance she had to reach him... was by showing up.
As the cashier bags his groceries, Jaxon swipes his card and bolts out the doors like the place is on fire. He tosses the bags in the backseat and tears out of the lot, heart pounding, tires squealing.
Please let them still be there.
Every mile feels longer than the last. By the time he pulls into the drive, dread sets in. No car. No laughter. No shadow of a little girl running across the porch.
They're gone.
He rests his forehead against the steering wheel, eyes closed. I just met my daughter—and I already lost her. Again.
Dragging himself out of the truck, he grabs the bags and heads to the back door. Before stepping inside, he glances out at the sound, silently begging the universe for one more miracle.
The house is quiet when he walks in. Too quiet. Jaxon sets the bags on the counter and begins unpacking. That’s when he hears it.
“Need some help?”
He turns sharply—nearly drops the loaf of bread—only to see Sara standing in the doorway, a teasing grin on her face.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I remember where you keep the spare key.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Jaxon says, relief flooding every word. “What are you doing here?”
“I want you to know your daughter, Jaxon,” she says gently. “Mom and Dad had to head back—cleaned out the beach house and hit the road. But we’ve got a few weeks before Jaq starts school again... so we thought we’d stay a little longer. We just... need a place to crash.”
She grins like it’s a casual request, but Jaxon sees the emotion behind her eyes. He closes the distance and wraps her in a hug.
“Stay as long as you want,” he says softly.
Their eyes meet as he pulls back, the air thick between them—until Jaqueline wanders into the kitchen like a perfectly timed reminder of why they’re here.
Jaxon kneels to her level. “I’m so glad you’re here, Jaq. Would it be okay if we all spent a little time together?”
“I like it here,” she says with a nod, the kind that makes something inside him settle for the first time in years.
“Good,” he smiles. “I hope you and Sara can stick around for a while.”
As Jaqueline runs off into the living room, Jaxon and Sara start ironing out the logistics.
“You can have my room,” he offers.
“Not a chance,” she says. “You’re doing us the favor.”
“No, Sara. You’re giving me the chance to know my daughter. That’s bigger than anything.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “Fine. I’ll take the one across the hall. Jaq wants the room down the hall anyway.”
“That’s surprising.”
“Honestly? Since Claire passed, she’s been glued to me. Hasn’t slept in her own bed once. Maybe it’s the new environment... she’s willing to try.”
“Or maybe she feels safe here,” Jaxon offers gently.
“Maybe,” Sara smiles.
They head upstairs to unpack, and Jaxon drifts into the kitchen, throwing together lunch with a quiet hum in his chest. Above him, the sound of feet—tiny, joyful footsteps—echo through the house like music.
He closes his eyes and lets it sink in. This is what I’ve always wanted.
Someone to share life with. I just never expected it to come in the form of a six-year-old whirlwind and her brave aunt.
The girls return and Jaxon looks up from the counter.
“Y’all get settled in?”
“We did,” Sara says. “Jaq took the room at the end of the hall, which... is weird.”
“Why?”
“Because she hasn’t slept alone since Claire died.”
“Maybe she’s ready to try.”
“Maybe. Or maybe she’ll crawl in bed with me around 2 a.m. We’ll see.”
Jaxon grins. “I made something simple. Grab the drinks—y’all follow me.”
Sara raises a brow like she’s expecting a surprise. The three of them step out onto the back deck. Two rocking chairs. One porch swing. The whole coast stretched out before them.
Jaxon and Sara take the chairs. Jaqueline dives straight for the swing.
They eat, talk, laugh—just a porch lunch, but to Jaxon, it feels like a lifetime in the making.
After a while, Jaq asks, “Can I go to the water?”
“Of course, baby,” Sara says, and off she goes, sundress twirling, arms stretched wide.
Jaxon watches her run through the grass, heart full.
“What are you smiling at?” Sara asks.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. I didn’t think it would look like this, or come this way, but... watching her out there? Looking up here with that smile?” His voice catches. “It’s everything.”
Sara nods, tears shining in her eyes. “She hasn’t smiled like that since Claire passed.”
“She’s strong,” Jaxon says, eyes never leaving his daughter. “She’s got you. Y’all did good.”
Sara nudges him. “You helped raise her too. Don’t forget that.”
He glances over.
“She knows you. Knows your stories. Your laugh. Your kindness. She’s funny like you, too—always trying to make people smile even when she’s hurting.”
Jaxon breathes deep, emotion pulling tight in his throat.
Funny how someone can be a part of you without ever standing in front of you.
Funny how you can find home in the laugh of a child who looks at you like you hung the moon.
He looks out at Jaqueline and whispers to himself, I didn’t even know I had a daughter. But she already has me.