Their Forever Home

by Syndi Powell

  “I promised I would come.” She took a seat across from him, wanting to reach out and give him a hug or touch his hand, but she’d been warned by the guards that touching wasn’t permitted. “How have you been?”

  Her father gave a shrug. “Fine, I guess. The food stinks. The cot is hard and uncomfortable. But at least I get my hour outside every day.”

  Sad to find that her dad’s life had been reduced to what he ate, where he slept and how he enjoyed an hour. She longed to give him some comfort. Maybe he’d adjust in time. She feared what would happen to him if he hung on to this defeated attitude.

  And what about your own? She brushed away the thought and held out an envelope, pushing it across the table toward him. “Mother and Andromeda asked me to bring you their letters.”

  He nodded and pulled the envelope to him. “Nice of you.”

  “Biggie and Tiny also asked me to tell you they’re thinking about you.”

  “What are those brothers up to now?”

  “Since we lost—” She choked on the word. It still hurt to talk about it. “They’re talking about retiring.”

  “Those guys won’t retire. They’ll find another contractor eventually. They can’t help working.”

  She nodded and dropped her gaze to her hands. “Tom Watterson is buying Mother out. The house. The last of the company’s assets. All of it.”

  Her father was only inches away from her. So close, yet he still seemed so far away. “He’d be a good man to work for. You should approach him about a job.”

  She raised her head at his words. “I don’t want to work for Watterson.”

  “He could teach you a lot.”

  “I learned everything I needed to know from you.” She scowled at him, rising to her feet despite a nearby guard’s warning. She glanced at the guard, then took her seat again, dropping the volume of her voice. “Because of you, I know how to run my own company. How to bid on and negotiate contracts. How to plan a project and keep a team on task.”

  He held out his hands. “So then why aren’t you working for yourself?”

  “You know why.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It takes money to start a company. And where am I going to find enough to do that?”

  “By starting small and building from there. How do you think I did it?”

  She laughed and looked around the visitors’ room. He grimaced. “Okay, so I’m not a stellar example of how to run a business. But you know plenty of people who are.”

  “Because of my last name, no contractor wants to talk to me.”

  “I meant the Buttuccis. The three of us started Lowman Construction together. Biggie may not say much, but his words of wisdom helped us get off the ground those first few years.” He leaned forward. “Have you even talked to them about this?”

  “Dad, we lost the contest. We came in second place, but they might as well have plastered big capital Ls on our foreheads.”

  “So you lost one contest. You move on to the next.”

  She let her head droop forward. “I can’t.”

  “Why not? Cass, you said it yourself. You know everything you need to know to succeed in this business, so what’s really stopping you?”

  Her eyes watered, and she couldn’t bear to face him. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do, Cass. Tell me.”

  She shook her head, but he reached out and touched her hand. A guard approached the table and rapped his knuckles on the metal surface. “No touching, Lowman. You know the rules.”

  Her father nodded and sat back in the metal chair. “What are you afraid of?”

  The tears now streamed down her cheeks as she faced him. “What if I can’t do this without you? What if I’m not good enough to do it on my own?”

  Her father stared at her silently as she batted away her tears. She hated to cry, especially in front of him. Ashamed of the tears, she glanced away.

  “You’ve always been good enough.”

  She jerked her chin up at those words. He’d never said them to her. He’d always criticized her work, pointing out the faults and making her start over again. Her father sighed. “First off, you wouldn’t have made it into the contest if you hadn’t been good enough.”

  “But we didn’t win—”

  “And are you going to let that define you?” He wearily eyed the room. “I know it’s pretty ironic coming from me as I sit in jail, but you can’t let that one moment determine the rest of your life. Don’t let it be a stop sign. Turn it into motivation to win the next one. To go out there and prove to everyone that you’re good and that you believe in yourself.” He swallowed hard. “Better than even your old man.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. She wanted to believe that losing wasn’t the end of her dream. That it was just a small dip in the road, rather than the bottomless canyon it seemed on her trip to success.

  Her father continued, “So do you have the courage to try again?”

  Could she reach deep down and find the strength to try once more? She might have spent years trying to be more like her dad, but she had pieces of her mother inside her, too. Her mother wouldn’t give up after losing. She’d figure out a way to come back even stronger than before. Maybe it was time to accept her father for who he was and to become more like her mother.

  She opened her eyes, and he smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  * * *

  CASSIE PULLED INTO the driveway of her house to find John sitting on her front porch, a rolled newspaper in his hand. He looked good. More than good. The warm weather had lingered into September, and he wore a T-shirt and jeans that highlighted how fit he was. He’d called her several times a day since the contest, but she hadn’t answered the phone once. Being with him only reminded her of the loss. She took a deep breath before opening the door and getting out of the truck. He stood as she crossed the lawn to the front porch.

  She looked him over. “Hey, there. What are you doing here?”

  He held out the newspaper to her. “I thought you might like to see the article on page three.”

  “I don’t.”

  He lowered his arm, the paper still in his hand. “You haven’t been returning my calls. I got tired of waiting for you to pull yourself out of this hole you’ve put yourself in.”

  “I didn’t put myself there. Losing did.”

  “You’re not going to win everything, Cassie. And the point of all this is what you do when you fall. Do you stay down or do you get back up?”

  “John—”

  “Please, hear me out.” He paused, then dove right in as if taking a leap of faith. “You drive me crazy. But then I guess when you fall in love with someone, the things that make you love them are the same things that get under your skin.”

  Her heart skipped a beat before resuming. He still loved her even after all this? “I know what you’re going to say, Cass. That it’s too soon and not right that I’m in love with you. But you’d be wrong about that, too.” He sighed. “When I first met you, I didn’t realize I was seeing my future. And I don’t mean just the construction and design business. But everything.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m messing this all up.”

  “I’d say you’re on a roll.”

  He put the newspaper in her hands. “Page three. It says it much better than I ever could.”

  She unrolled the paper to find it was the local Detroit newspaper’s real estate section. She looked up at him. “Page three?”

  He nodded and sat on the porch while she turned the pages. Page three showed pictures of the Tanner home as well as an announcement of the grand opening of the CJ Construction and Design Company. In bold letters along the bottom, it read: Cassie, be my partner in business and in life. Let’s design a beautiful life together.

  “Wow.”

  He looked nervous. “Too much?”

  She
smiled and shook her head.

  He stood and put his hands in hers. “Then say yes, Cass. The Tanner house proves that we’re better together than apart. I can’t make this work without you. I don’t want to.”

  She looked into his eyes. “If, and I mean if, we do this, it doesn’t mean I’m always going to agree with you. Or that I’ll get my way all the time, either. It means we’re partners. Fifty-fifty.”

  “Agreed,” he stated emphatically.

  Chuckling, she squeezed his hands.

  “So does this mean what I think it does?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath. “I love you, John. And you’re right. It’s time I wasn’t down. It’s time I got up.”

  He bent and kissed her long and passionately until she felt it down to her toes. When they broke apart, she felt dazed. “And one more thing,” she said.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yes?”

  “The Buttucci brothers will always have a job with us as long as they want one.” She gave him a look. “Even Biggie.”

  He sighed. “Agreed. But if he hurts my mother, I have the right to kick his butt.”

  “Agreed.”

  They kissed once more. She felt joy, relief and excitement all rolled into one. Slipping her arms around his waist, she hugged him close. “Oh, and I don’t like long engagements, either”

  She could feel him kiss the top of her head. “Agreed.”

  * * *

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at

  Beckett and Andie’s romance

  coming next from author Syndi Powell...

  Keep reading for an excerpt from After the Rodeo by Claire McEwen.

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  A Sneak Peek At Syndi Powell's Next Novel

  “BOSS, WE’VE GOT a problem.”

  Beckett paused at the words, resting the sledgehammer he’d been using to tear up the kitchen’s ceramic tile floor. “Rob, I hired you so that we wouldn’t have problems. What’s wrong?”

  The younger man shook his head. “I think you need to see this.”

  Beckett followed him into the living room of the house they’d started to renovate that morning. Rob pointed at the east living room wall. “There’s two walls.”

  “Two?” He approached the wall and peered into the foot-wide hole where Rob had started to take down the drywall. Reaching for his cell phone from his back pocket, Beckett used the flashlight feature to try to examine what lay behind the outer wall.

  Rob was right. There was a second wall behind the first. Why in the world would someone lose square footage by building it six inches out from the original wall?

  Beckett turned back to Rob. “That explains why the room dimensions were off from the blueprints.”

  “What are we going to do about it?”

  “Nothing. For now.” He wanted time to think about it first before they acted rashly. “Why don’t you tackle the master bedroom walls for now. We’ll revisit this wall later.”

  Rob gave a nod and left Beckett who returned to the kitchen. He wanted to get this floor up before quitting for the day. He raised the sledgehammer over his head and brought it down on the ceramic. It felt good to break apart the tiles, straining his muscles as he hefted the hammer above his head again and again to smash it onto the floor. He found the demolition oddly satisfying when work on a house began. Later, he hoped he would find the same appreciation when he handed the keys over to the new owner and deposited their check into his bank account. But for now, he’d revel in the burn in his biceps as he smashed the hammer back down on to the tiles.

  After an hour, he stopped to wipe his forehead for the umpteenth time with an old bandanna he kept in the back pocket of his jeans. Rob popped his head into the room. “I’m taking off for the night and thought I’d join some buddies at the pub to celebrate the New Year. You in?”

  Beckett put his bandanna back into his pocket, hoping it looked as if he was seriously considering the invitation, though he already knew his answer. After a moment, he shook his head. “I want to finish tearing up this floor tonight, then prime it for the new tiles.”

  Rob glanced at his watch. “It’s already after seven. You planning on working all night?”

  If he could, he would keep working on the house for days without sleeping. Because working made him stop thinking and kept him awake. Whereas sleeping only brought back the bad dreams. He gave Rob a shrug. “You go on. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow is New Year’s Day, and you gave me the day off.” Rob frowned at him. “Are you okay, man?”

  Beckett waved off his concern. “I’m fine. I just forgot what day it was. I’ll see you after the holiday.”

  Rob peered at him briefly and then nodded. “Maybe you could use a night out with the guys. Come with us, Beckett. I’ll even buy the first round of beers.”

  The thought of sitting in a bar with people all around him made his heart stutter, and he swallowed at the bile that rose in his throat. “Another time.”

  “I’m holding you to that.”

  Beckett agreed, but acknowledged that it would never happen. He didn’t go to loud public places like bars or restaurants. He’d put off Rob’s invitations until the guy gave up on trying to include him. Beckett didn’t see the need to be a part of the group anymore because he was better off on his own.

  He returned to scooping up the tiles with a dust pan and tossing them into an empty cardboard box that he had repurposed earlier. He needed to work. To stay busy. To keep his mind occupied and away from thoughts of the past.

  His stomach growled as he finished removing the last tile. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was almost nine, and he’d eaten lunch more than eight hours ago. No wonder his belly felt as if it was gnawing on itself. He left the house to walk to his truck parked in the driveway, pulled out the cooler he kept stocked with food for times such as this, and pulled out a salami sandwich. He returned to the warmth of the house and took a seat on an overturned bucket. Unwrapping the sandwich, he took a large bite and glanced around the living room as he ate. The wall behind the wall bothered him. What if the second wall hid a structural issue? While his inspector had assured him that the house was sound, it could be hiding a surprise.

  He put his half-eaten sandwich down on the bucket and retrieved his sledgehammer from the kitchen. He swung the hammer into the wall, letting pieces of plaster fall on to the wooden floor. He pulled off a piece of the wall and tossed it aside, then hefted the
sledgehammer over his shoulder, bringing it down on the next section of the wall. After thirty minutes, he’d opened up most of the first wall.

  The rest was solid. He’d need his saw to remove the framing. What could all this effort be concealing? Excitement of the discovery pushed him to keep going.

  With the framing now gone, he started to take down the inner wall even though his muscles protested at their continued use. But he couldn’t stop now. He was desperate to find out what secrets the house was concealing from him.

  Once he’d gotten the wall down to the studs, he paused and stared at the stained-glass window that had been revealed. He put a hand against the cool glass and wondered why anyone would ever cover up something so beautiful. They’d even bricked it over on the exterior side of the house. True, the cracks in the glass gave it an eerie beauty, but it looked amazing all the same. The window measured at least two feet across and four feet high, portraying a boat sailing by a lighthouse that sent out shards of light. Red and black glass bordered the window.

  He took a step back. He didn’t know anything about repairing windows much less stained glass. He fished his cell phone from a pocket and dialed up another friend in the contracting business. The call went to voicemail, so he waited for the beep. “Hey, Cassie. Beckett here. I just found a stained-glass window in this house I’m flipping. Do you know anyone who might be able to fix it? I’d hate to tear it out and throw it in the trash. Call me.”

  He hung up the phone and returned to his sandwich. Sitting again on the bucket, he stared at the window and wondered what it all meant.

  I promise I’m going to find out.

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  Copyright © 2020 by Syndi Powell

  Keep reading for an excerpt from After the Rodeo by Claire McEwen.

  After the Rodeo

  by Claire McEwen

  CHAPTER ONE