by Irene Hannon
“Eat hearty now,” Vera Mae instructed. “Especially you, Mr. Wallace. You need to get some meat back on those bones.”
Grinning, he reached for a biscuit. “I’ll do my best.”
The front door slammed, and everyone turned in unison toward the hall. Tim dashed by the doorway, then backtracked when he realized the family was already at the table. A flush crept up his neck as he entered the room and took the chair beside Amy. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re just in time for grace,” Nora told him. “Wallace?”
They all joined hands and bowed their heads as Wallace offered a blessing.
“Lord, we thank You for this food, and for the comfort and love of family. We ask You to give us strength and courage as we face the trials that have come our way, and we thank You for the gift of Your presence, which lights our journey even on our darkest days. Amen.”
As they dug into the meal, the conversation flowed, moving with ease from one topic to another, punctuated by laughter and teasing and friendly debate. Amy could almost pretend that this was just like any other carefree, pre-problems Sunday dinner. Until Vera Mae came to the door and sent a cautious look toward Nora.
“Miss Nora, there’s a phone call for you.”
“Just take a message, Vera Mae,” Wallace instructed. “I don’t want to interrupt dinner. It’s the only time all month when we’re together.”
When the woman hesitated, Nora sent her a questioning look. “What is it, Vera Mae?”
“I wouldn’t interrupt, except I thought you might want to take this particular call.”
“Why?”
After a brief hesitation, the woman responded. “It’s Jeremy.”
Everyone stopped eating. Wallace’s lips settled into a thin line, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “If he wants to talk to his mother, he should come to Sunday dinner.”
The four siblings exchanged uneasy looks, and Amy noted that her mother’s face had lost some of its color. Wallace still didn’t know Jeremy had left town in search of his fraternal grandparents, and the family had agreed that in light of Wallace’s precarious health, it would be best not to share that piece of information yet. It would only upset him.
“Wallace, dear, I think I’ll take it, if you don’t mind. Perhaps it’s something important. I won’t be a minute.”
Giving a stiff nod, he reached for his water glass. “Whatever you think best.”
Quiet descended on the table during Nora’s absence. Amy knew Tim was still angry at Jeremy for jumping ship in the midst of all the other crises they faced, and she could feel him seething beside her. Chris looked concerned, and Heather appeared distraught. Wallace’s face was stony as he shoved a green bean around on his plate.
True to her word, Nora slipped back into her seat a couple of minutes later. “Jeremy says hello to everyone.”
“Humph,” was Wallace’s only comment.
Ever since she’d arrived, Amy had been trying to figure out how to broach the subject of her phone conversation with Melissa. And how to avoid the inevitable questions her announcement would generate. She didn’t want to lie to her family, but she’d promised Melissa she’d keep her secret. She’d just have to wing it, she supposed. And now seemed to be the time, considering the pall that had fallen over the table. Maybe it would distract everyone from the problems with Jeremy.
Taking a deep breath, she forced a bright tone into her voice. “I have some good news.”
“We could use some,” Tim muttered.
She ignored him. “I had a phone call from Melissa last night.”
“Where is she?”
“Did she say when she’s coming home?”
“Is she okay?”
“Did you tell her her job at the Dispatch is still waiting for her?”
At the barrage of questions, Amy held up her hands. “Wait. One at a time. But first let me tell you what I know. She’s in Detroit. For the moment, anyway. It sounds like she’s on the move with the band. I think she’s considering coming home, but she’s not ready to make that decision yet. She sends her love and promised to keep in touch.”
“So she’s with that Dean character, as we suspected?” Wallace said.
“Yes.”
“He may be scum, but at least he doesn’t have a record,” Chris offered.
“That doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better,” Wallace retorted.
“Did she seem upset, Amy?” Worry clouded Nora’s face.
That question moved her onto tricky ground. It was time for evasive maneuvers. “I think she misses us. And she sounded more grown-up than I can ever recall.”
“It’s about time,” Tim groused.
“We’re in a good mood today, aren’t we?” Amy sent Tim a chastising look.
“Sorry.”
“Is there a problem at the office?” Wallace queried.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He gave a dismissive shrug. Then he turned his attention back to Amy. “Why do you think Melissa might come home?”
“I sensed that her attraction for Dean may be waning.” Amy framed her response with care.
“Did she say when she’d call again?” Amy noted Nora’s white-knuckled grip on her water glass as she asked the question, and her heart ached for all her mother had endured in the past few months.
“No, Mom. It didn’t sound like it would be too long, though.”
“But…why didn’t she call me?” Nora’s face reflected puzzlement—and hurt.
That was another question Amy couldn’t answer. “It was late when she called. Maybe she didn’t want to wake you,” Amy hedged.
“I wouldn’t have cared if it was three in the morning. It would have been good to hear her voice.” Nora’s wistful tone tightened Amy’s throat.
Reaching for his wife’s hand, Wallace enfolded her delicate fingers in a comforting grip. “At least she’s been in touch. That’s a good sign. We should be thankful that she seems to be coming to her senses. And trust that the Lord will bring her safely home.”
“You’re right, of course. I’m sure Pastor Abernathy would remind me of the same thing. Such a nice man. And he gives wonderful sermons.” Nora composed her face and managed to dredge up a smile.
“I’m looking forward to going back to church as soon as I regain my strength,” Wallace said.
“Speaking of church…I noticed Bryan and his son at services this morning. Dylan’s even cuter in person than in the photos, isn’t he?” Heather directed her question to her sister.
Amy stared at her. “Bryan was at church?”
Surprise flickered across Heather’s face. “Yes. Didn’t you notice?”
“Bryan who, dear?” Nora asked Heather.
“Bryan Healey. You remember, Mom. He dated Amy when they were in high school.”
“Oh, of course. Such a nice boy. I thought he moved away years ago.”
“He did. But when his wife died, he came back home with his son. In fact, we hired him a few weeks ago at Nashville Living as a feature writer.”
“How interesting. You never told me that, Amy.”
A flush began to creep up Amy’s neck. Talk about going from the frying pan into the fire! The last thing she wanted to do was discuss Bryan Healey with her family. “It was no big deal, Mom. We had an opening, he had the qualifications, so we offered him the job. We hire people all the time.”
“Not ex-boyfriends.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“I remember Bryan,” Chris joined in. “Nice guy. Seemed trustworthy. Not like some of those hotshots you dated who looked like they wanted to get you in the back seat of the car as soon as the house was out of sight.”
“Thanks a lot.” Amy scowled at him.
“Hey, I’ve been there. Male teenage hormones are a force to be reckoned with. Consider it a compliment that I thought you had the good sense to pick Bryan as a boyfriend.”
“He still seems like he has a good head on his shoulders,” Ethan added. “I’m
just glad I claimed Heather before he arrived back in town.” He reached over and squeezed his fiancée’s hand.
Turning to him, a soft smile lit her face. “I always liked Bryan. But I love you.”
“It’s getting pretty deep in here, if you ask me. There are other things in life besides love, you know.” Tim helped himself to another biscuit.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve given it a try,” Chris replied.
“I know all about love. I love my job, don’t I?”
Rolling her eyes, Heather gave Tim a dismayed look. “You’re hopeless. Is there no romance in your soul?”
“Hey, why are you ganging up on me? Amy hasn’t fallen for all that romance stuff, either.”
“Yet.”
At Heather’s cryptic comment, Amy angled a suspicious look in her direction. But before she could respond, Vera Mae pushed through the swinging door that led to the kitchen, carrying a huge, homemade apple pie fresh from the oven. That was enough to divert everyone’s attention, and Amy was thankful for the timing. She didn’t want to talk any more about Bryan. Not until she had some time to think things through, to reflect on Heather’s surprising announcement that he’d been in church this morning. And to wrestle into submission the longing he’d stirred up in her heart this afternoon at the park.
Thankfully, the subject of Bryan didn’t come up again, nor did Melissa or Jeremy. But as she prepared to leave, she pulled her mother aside, curious about the earlier phone call from her oldest brother.
“Is everything all right with Jeremy, Mom?” She kept her voice subdued so her father wouldn’t overhear.
A look of distress flashed across Nora’s face. “As well as can be expected, I guess. He’s angry and confused and hurt. I suppose we should have told him years ago, but…well, that’s water under the bridge now. At least he hasn’t shut us out.”
“Is he having any luck finding his grandparents?”
“No. But he has a lead he’s going to follow, in Florida. If he does find the Andersons, they’ll be as shocked as he was by the news. They have no idea their son had a child. I guess I should have tried harder to find them when Paul died, but I didn’t have much to work with. He was estranged from his parents, and since he never spoke about them I had no idea where to look. I wish now I’d made more of an effort. Then maybe all this could have been avoided.”
Tears glistened in Nora’s eyes, and Amy reached over to give her a comforting hug. “It’s not your fault, Mom. You did what you thought was best at the time, under very trying and emotional circumstances. No one blames you.”
“Wallace and I always thought it would be better to keep the secret. I know, deep in his heart, your father regrets the fact that he let it slip at the hospital. But he was so sick, and so worried about the business…”
“We’ll get through this, Mom,” Amy encouraged when her mother’s voice trailed off. “I know we will. And one of these days all of your children will be back around this table, like before. Just wait and see.”
“I’d like to believe that. It’s certainly what I’m praying for.”
“Me, too.” Amy leaned over and kissed her mother. “I’ll stop by again tomorrow.”
“Thank you, dear. And keep those prayers going.”
“I will.” With a wave, Amy slipped through the front door and walked to her car. As she slid behind the wheel, she took another look at the house that had once rung with laughter. In her heart, she believed it would again. She had to believe that. But she also knew that it would take all of their combined prayers—and then some—to restore harmony to the Hamilton home.
“Mr. Hamilton?” The voice on the other end of the phone sounded surprised. “This is Russ Jackson, the security guard at The Enclave. How are you feeling, sir?”
It seemed like the whole world knew about his health problems, Wallace thought in resignation. “Holding my own, thank you,” he responded. “What can I do for you?”
There was a hesitation before the man spoke. “Is Mrs. Hamilton at home?”
“No, I’m sorry. She ran into town. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Well…I hate to bother you with this.”
“I don’t mind at all. I have plenty of time on my hands these days.”
“Thank you.” The man sounded relieved. “There’s a plumbing problem of some kind in Jeremy’s unit. A water stain has appeared on the ceiling in the lobby, and it’s growing. I tried Amy and Tim at their offices, but their voice mail kicked in. We’d like to get someone’s permission before we go into his unit.”
“If there’s an emergency, I’m sure Jeremy would want you to take care of it. But if you’d feel more comfortable, just wait and ask him yourself.” He consulted his watch. “It’s pretty late. I would think he’d be there soon.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize he was coming back today.”
“Back? Back from where?”
“I’m not sure, sir.” The man was beginning to sound uncertain.
“How long has he been gone?”
“About three weeks.”
Silence greeted the man’s response as Wallace digested that news.
“Sir? Are you still there?”
Clearing his throat, Wallace spoke again, though his voice wasn’t quite steady. “Yes. You have my permission to take care of the plumbing problem. Don’t wait for Jeremy.”
“All right. Thank you, sir. And I hope your recovery is speedy.”
Still stunned by the news that Jeremy had left Davis Landing, Wallace groped for a chair and eased himself down. All this time, he’d thought the boy was just lying low. Not that he’d blamed him. Having that kind of bombshell dropped on you would send anyone reeling. But he’d had no idea Jeremy had left town. The question was, where had he gone?
The sound of the kitchen door opening caught Wallace’s attention, and he struggled to stand again. The last thing he wanted to do was add to Nora’s worry, and seeing him slumped in a chair would bring that look of panic to her face that always tore at his gut. The increasing weakness and fatigue he’d been feeling was surely just an aftermath of the transplant. He’d ask Dr. Strickland about it at his next checkup, but in the meantime he didn’t need to burden anyone with that concern. He’d be seeing the doctor in two weeks, and the man could answer his questions then. In the meantime, though, he wanted some answers to other questions. About Jeremy.
When Nora passed the library, she seemed surprised to see him standing by his desk. “Wallace! You’re not working, are you?”
“No. The phone rang as I walked by the door, so I picked it up in here.”
“Anything important?”
“It was a security guard from The Enclave.”
“Whatever did he want?”
“There’s a plumbing problem in Jeremy’s apartment. He wanted authorization to go in, and he couldn’t reach Amy or Tim.”
A flicker of unease swept across Nora’s face. “Did you give him permission?”
“Yes…after he told me that Jeremy had left town at least three weeks ago and that he didn’t know when he planned to return.”
Some of the color faded from Nora’s face, but she remained silent.
“Do you want to tell me what this is all about?” The turbulent look on Wallace’s face was at odds with his calm, composed tone.
Lifting a hand to her throat, Nora took a deep breath. She’d always been open and honest with her husband, right from the beginning. Even about Jeremy. She’d only kept this from him because she hadn’t wanted to jeopardize his health by adding to his stress. But she could see now that it had been a mistake. She should have known that it would just be a matter of time before someone let the news slip. He should have heard about Jeremy’s quest from her.
Moving into the room, Nora drew close and laid a hand on his arm, her gaze seeking his, willing him to see that her intentions had been good. “I didn’t think you needed that worry on top of everything else,” she said softly. “But I should have told you. Je
remy went in search of the Andersons.”
Wallace’s face grew pasty, and his tone was flat when he spoke. “He wants to know about his real father.”
“You are his real father. In every way that matters.” Nora’s voice was fierce.
“Maybe I was. Then I turned him against me by dropping that bombshell in his lap.” Wallace’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow. “I handled that badly.”
“You were sick.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“It’s a very good excuse. Jeremy will realize in time that we didn’t mean to hurt him by keeping the information about his biological father a secret. That you did it for the best reasons—because you wanted him to feel like a Hamilton. To be a Hamilton. You love him just as much as you love any of your other children.”
“That’s true. But I wonder if Jeremy will ever believe that again?”
At the wistful quality in his voice, Nora put her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “He’s a good man, Wallace. You raised a fine son. He’ll come around in time. I know it in my heart.”
The conviction in his wife’s voice was firm, but Wallace wasn’t as sure. If he had it to do over again, he wouldn’t share the secret of Jeremy’s true parentage. It was too late to take back the words now, though. All he could do was pray that Jeremy would find what he was looking for—and also find it in his heart to forgive the man he’d always called Dad.
Chapter Eight
“Heather! Conference. Amy’s office. Now!”
The cryptic tone in Tim’s voice as it zipped over the cubicles in the Nashville Living offices stopped Heather in mid-step as she headed toward the elevator. Her brother had thrown the command over his shoulder without breaking stride as he bore down on Amy’s office, and Heather watched as he reached the closed door, gave a perfunctory knock—one quick, sharp rap—then entered without waiting for a response. A jolt of panic shot through her, and she almost ran to her sister’s office, slipping inside just as Tim began to close the door.
