Finding the Road Home

by Tina Radcliffe

  “Thanks, buddy,” Mitch said to the little guy.

  “PJ did that,” Christian chimed in.

  “I’d say ‘I see,’” Daisy said, “but I don’t.” Once again, she assessed the room.

  Mitch’s gaze followed hers as she looked around the kitchen. “Everything okay? We cleaned up to your satisfaction I trust?”

  “Mitch, this is tidier than I left it.”

  “We helped,” Christian said.

  Daisy stared at them for several moments as if regrouping. Then she clapped her hands. “How about a cookie for dessert? I made those oatmeal ones. They’re nice and soft, and have that yummy lemon icing.”

  “We already had one,” Seth said. He flicked the spinner and began to count spaces.

  “Have another. Mr. Mitch is going to take a break with me out on the back porch,” Daisy announced.

  “I’m about to win,” Mitch protested.

  Seth and Grace both erupted into laughter.

  “It could happen,” he said to the smiling faces.

  Daisy picked up the cookie jar and tucked it under her arm before plopping four cookies on the table. “Let’s go, Mr. Mitch.”

  He put Sam in the chair he’d vacated before following Daisy, who held a death grip on the cookie jar.

  Outside, the setting sun disappeared behind the tops of the orchard trees, and the horizon became an inky highway to a moonless night. But the evening was never a reprieve in Rebel. No, the air remained thick with humidity, and the temperature hovered at its usual summer sweat. You simply learned to tolerate it. Mitch ran a hand over his damp forehead and turned to Daisy.

  “Cookie?” she asked.

  He held up a hand. “I’m good.”

  “I’m not.” She grabbed a handful and placed the jar on the ground.

  “You don’t look happy,” he observed.

  “I’m tired and cranky. It’s been a very long day.” She bit into a cookie and paused, her eyes round with wonder. “It might be because I’m starving, but this is a really good cookie.”

  “Almost as good as your pies.”

  “Thank you.” She took another bite. “So you were explaining why you’re babysitting.”

  “Was I?”

  “If you don’t mind. I mean, not that I’m not grateful, but I am a tad confused.”

  “Your grandmother mentioned that she was invited to the mayor’s house with her friends to watch the fireworks.”

  “That doesn’t explain Chutes and Ladders.”

  “Seth said you didn’t have Monopoly.”

  “Funny.”

  “I told your grandmother that I’d stay with the kids until you got home.”

  “On purpose?” Daisy coughed around a mouthful of cookie.

  “Are you okay?”

  She offered a furious nod and swallowed. “Who does that? Who volunteers to babysit five kids?”

  “Don’t you have any people in your life who do things just because they’re your friend?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Is that a trick question? Because the answer is obviously no. I had a mother who walked out when my father died. My faithful boyfriend of three years peeled rubber when he realized things were going to get, in his words, ‘complicated.’ My grandmother is the only exception to the bail when things get messy rule.”

  “I’m sorry for that,” Mitch said. He bit back a commentary on the fact that the MIA boyfriend didn’t deserve Daisy anyhow. Instead, he relaxed his now clenched fists and placed them on the rough wood of the porch railing. “You’re in Rebel now,” he continued. “And your friends here stick around when the going gets tough.”

  “Why does it seem that you’re always the friend who comes to my rescue?” she asked.

  Mitch shrugged. “Coincidence?”

  Both Daisy and Mitch turned their heads at the song of a barn owl.

  Daisy peered into the kitchen window. “What did you put in that mac and cheese?”

  “Huh?”

  “Look at them.”

  He followed her gaze. Around the table, Daisy’s children were laughing as they continued playing the game. “What? They look like happy, normal kids to me.”

  “That’s my point. They’re good kids, but I haven’t seen them so animated and happy in a long time.”

  “Grace and Seth were happy when we were fishing.”

  “Yes, and the common denominator there is you. You’re good with them.” A smile touched her lips. “They like you, Mitch.”

  A warm fuzzy something wrapped around his heart. “I like them too.” As the words slipped from his mouth, Mitch considered how true they were. Today had been a very good day. The only thing that could have made it better was if Daisy was with them. He blinked at the realization.

  “I can’t believe Sam and Christian are still awake,” Daisy finally said. “They’re lightweights. Two lemonades and a little excitement, and they’re out for the count.”

  “They did fall asleep, and then Seth sent a long ball sailing through a window and they woke up.”

  “He what?” Daisy stepped off the porch and looked up at the second-story window as though she could possibly see in the dark.

  “I’ve already taped and measured the glass. Then we mowed the yard a little farther back so he can practice without taking out every window in the house.”

  “I told him to hit the balls in the other direction.”

  “I guess he forgot.”

  Daisy shoved the last piece of cookie into her mouth. “You mowed the grass too?”

  “We had time on our hands.”

  She nodded slowly. “Let me see if I have this straight. You babysat and mowed the lawn and made mac and cheese and then played board games. All on your day off.”

  “I enjoyed it.”

  “You did?” Daisy clasped her hands together and worried at her lips. “You must think I’m totally irresponsible. But I did text my grandmother that I was running late.”

  “It’s all good.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his pants, and stared at the porch floorboards. “I thought you might have had a date.”

  “Are you kidding me? I have five kids.” Laughter bubbled from her mouth. “Not to mention, I look like I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a month.”

  Mitch raised his head and stared at her. Did she not realize how beautiful she was?

  Her eyes met his and held for a moment before she looked away.

  “The fact remains,” she said, “that I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to be so late.”

  “I called dispatch,” Mitch said. “Nothing remarkable happened on your shift.”

  “Is that what they said?”

  “Yes.” He looked at her again, waiting for her to explain. This time she avoided eye contact.

  “Is there something I should know?” he asked.

  “Probably. Let me get the kids to bed first.”

  The screen door creaked open, and Seth stuck his head outside. “Aunt D, the fireworks are starting. I saw them in the sky.”

  She looked overhead where the sky was aglow with bursts of color. “So they are.” Daisy pulled open the door and held it for Mitch. “Fireworks first, okay?”

  “Okay.” As he murmured the word, he felt a thick cloud of foreboding settle between them.

  “Thank you,” Daisy said. “The best view will be from the front porch. Go through the living room.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  Daisy sat in a rocking chair next to Mitch while the children jumped up and down on the front lawn, yelling with delight as whistles and pops preceded explosive trails of light that lit up the sky over and over again.

  In between bursts of light, the children played on the lawn, laughing with abandon.

  Daisy never missed a beat, keeping watchful eye
s on each child. Mitch couldn’t help but admire the woman’s love for her sister’s children.

  “Look at me, Aunt D,” Seth called before he somersaulted across the grass.

  “That makes twenty-two. Very nice, sweetheart.” She turned her head. “Grace, not so close to the street. Christian, finger out of your nose.”

  When a loud boom sounded overhead, Sam began to cry. Mitch and Daisy reached for him at the same time.

  “Sorry,” Daisy mumbled as her arms tangled with his. She cuddled Sam close and placed her hands over the four-year-old’s ears.

  “You’re a good mother, Daisy,” Mitch said. “You multitask like a pro.”

  “Psh,” she scoffed. “I’m working purely on a wing and a prayer.”

  “Not any different than me fifteen years ago, or my brother and his girls now. Sometimes you just have to step up to the plate and trust the good Lord will teach you how to bat.”

  “Wait a minute. This from God’s personal micromanager?”

  “I was smarter back then.”

  Gradually, the fireworks began to fade and bursts of light filled the sky with less frequency.

  “I guess it’s over.” Daisy glanced at the kids. “Let me get them to bed, and then we can talk.”

  “I’ll help.”

  “No, I can’t impose on your good nature any longer.”

  “Daisy, you’ve been gone for fourteen hours. Let me give you a hand.”

  She grimaced, as though waging a mental battle with pride and exhaustion. When her shoulders slumped, Mitch realized that he’d won a small and important battle. Daisy was going to allow him to help her.

  He stood and reached for little Sam. “I’ll take care of Christian and Sam.”

  “Thank you.” Daisy relinquished the child and released a breath of relief.

  “You can stop thanking me any time now,” Mitch said. “Just tell me where to find their pajamas.”

  “On their beds. The usual routine. Wash their hands and faces and brush their teeth. We’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.”

  Mitch smiled. Yeah, he remembered the days of usual routines. “I can do that,” he said.

  “I’ll check on the baby, and get Grace and Seth settled in for the night.”

  “Got it.”

  Daisy turned away and then turned back. She hesitated, opening her mouth and then closing it. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Very sure. I raised my sister and brothers. This will be like old times.”

  “That might not be a good thing.”

  “The point is, I can do it with my eyes closed.”

  “All right then.” Daisy nodded. “Seth, Grace, Christian, Sam. Tell Mr. Mitch thank you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Mitch,” they said in unison.

  Christian and Sam were half asleep before their heads hit the pillow. Mitch stood in the doorway, watching both of them for a moment, his mind tumbling back to nights where he stood at the foot of Levi’s and Kate’s beds as they slept, praying the Lord would keep them safe. Being a parent, even a substitute parent, was the toughest job in the world. One he’d failed at, or Levi would be here right now.

  Which was why volunteering at Daisy’s house tonight made no sense at all. He should have been running in the other direction. Except it felt right. Too right.

  Mitch went into the kitchen and put away the board game. When he finished, he stepped out the back door. It was a moonless night, the sky darker than usual, especially after the recent light show.

  The porch door creaked open.

  “Sorry it took me so long,” Daisy said as the door closed behind her. “Grace wanted to talk. She had a really good time today.”

  “I’m glad,” he said.

  They were silent for a long moment, standing side by side on the porch. The night was quiet until the painful shuddering of the air conditioner filled the air.

  “What’s going on with the AC?” he asked.

  “It’s still limping along. The repair guy said we’ll need a new compressor installed, eventually.”

  “And?”

  “They want to install two units because of the square footage of the house. Frankly, it’s an expensive outlay if I’m not going to be around to enjoy it.”

  “Why do you say that? You’re going to be around. I promised you.”

  “There’s no way you can make that kind of promise, Mitch. We won’t know about the county funding until August. I can’t sink a couple of grand into a house I might have to sell.” She ran a hand over the porch railing. “There isn’t a big real estate market in Rebel. This house was on the market for a very long time before I bought it. Moving forward, I have to be practical.”

  “Everything we’ve done in the past few weeks has been successful. We’re well on our way to some impressive fund-raising, and the community engagement is already a success.”

  “Mitch, I thought you understood.”

  “I do, but you can’t give up now. We only have four weeks left.”

  Daisy hung her head and closed her eyes. “Life should come with one or two guarantees, shouldn’t it?” she murmured.

  “Hey, hey, I’m sorry.” Without thinking he was at her side with an arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to stress you.”

  Daisy turned her head a fraction of an inch and met his gaze. He was close enough to see the dark flecks in her blue eyes. Time stood still between them, and for a moment he allowed himself to imagine the impossible. That somehow, someway, he could have a future with someone like Daisy Anderson.

  When she stepped away from his touch, he knew that he really was dreaming.

  “It’s been a long day,” Daisy said. “And I really should tell you about it.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  She cleared her throat. “Roscoe fell off the roof of Beep Jeep.”

  Mitch stared at her. “Excuse me?”

  “Actually, he didn’t fall. He rolled.”

  “Why was Roscoe on the roof of Beep Jeep?” He fought for calm, working to keep his voice even.

  Daisy chewed on her thumbnail. “I spotted the cherub.”

  “The ten-dollar replaceable cherub?” Mitch scrubbed his face with a hand.

  “That would be the one.”

  “Did anyone see him...roll?”

  “No. That’s the good news. Plus the cherub is safe and sound.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “Roscoe broke his wrist. He used his hand to break his fall. That’s why I’m late.” She swallowed. “He refused to cut out of work early, although he did ice his wrist and took over-the-counter medication until we were off at three.”

  She met Mitch’s gaze. “He even let me drive the rest of the shift.”

  “Did he get his wrist looked at?”

  “Yes. At the end of the shift, he insisted that I take him to Tulsa, instead of Lakeview Hospital, so no one from the newspaper would find out. The emergency department was swamped with fireworks injuries. It took hours to be seen.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s a distal radius fracture. No surgery required. Roscoe is wearing a cast for the next six weeks.”

  Mitch released a long breath. All this for a silly cherub. “How’s Roscoe?” he finally asked.

  “Resting. That nice pharmacist went into the pharmacy on a holiday to get Roscoe’s pain meds. I’ll check on him tomorrow.”

  Mitch was silent for a moment. “Why wasn’t this in your report?”

  “You read the report?”

  “I told you, I called dispatch.” Mitch swallowed. “I was concerned.”

  She nodded. “We were on break. On our way to the Gas and Go for lattes. Technically, it was not a work-related accident.”

  “That was Roscoe’s spin, was it?”

  Daisy studied he
r sandals with concentrated interest, and slowly raised her gaze to meet his. “No. Henna’s.”

  He blinked. “Henna was in on this too?”

  “Henna helped us understand the policy and procedure manual.”

  “Right. Because there isn’t a chapter in there on flying off roofs,” he muttered. Mitch clamped his teeth together and took a calming breath. Henna knew how he felt about protocol, and still she didn’t call him either.

  “I want to be clear that this was all me and my partner. I am as complicit as Roscoe. I’m not going to throw him under the bus to save myself. And there’s probably something you should know,” Daisy added.

  Mitch raised a brow. “What’s that?”

  “I didn’t stop him. Well, at first I tried, and then I realized that Roscoe needed to do this.” She took a deep breath.

  Mitch shot her a questioning glance. “Why? Why did he need to climb on a roof? He could have called the fire department to do that.”

  “Roscoe wanted to keep the Rebel PD from looking foolish.”

  Again, Mitch was silent. If there was a silver lining to this tale it was that Roscoe had the good sense not to let Daisy on that roof.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Daisy asked softly.

  “Yeah. I’m processing.”

  “I guess this means I’ll be riding alone.”

  “That’s not my takeaway, Daisy.” Mitch raised his head. “Roscoe has eleven months left, and I’m not sure I can keep him or you in one piece that long.”

  “You can’t protect us.” She paused. “Roscoe needs to be able to defend his pride, and we both need to be allowed to do the job we’re trained to do.”

  “I’m not asking you to babysit the guy, but maybe next time you could call me and let me take the bullet instead of him.”

  “I didn’t call you because it was your day off.” She released a breath. “Ironic, right?” Daisy pushed back a tendril of hair. “If only you could have seen him. Roscoe was alive. He had a purpose. Maybe instead of protecting the guy, you need to find something for him to do that gives him purpose again.”

  Annoyance poked at him. Maybe she had a point, but right now he wasn’t feeling real objective. He met her gaze. “Telling me how to do my job?”

  “I’m making an observation.”