by Leah Atwood
“Kid’s not cooperating?”
“They’re so excited, and all the parents backed out of helping at the last minute, so I’m by myself.” Her chest rose with a deep exhale. “I’m losing my patience.”
“You’re doing a great job of hiding it.”
“Not for long.” She laughed again, and this time he heard the nervousness behind it. “I don’t know how I’ll keep them in line for a mile–and-a-half walk.”
“I’ll help you.” The offer slipped out unmediated.
“You already agreed to participate with the VFW.”
“All the men there will be wearing uniforms, and I’ll look out of place.” He brushed a hand over his hair. “I’ll find Mr. Horton. He’ll understand, especially if it’s helping you out. He sang nothing but praises for you when I went to their meeting last Thursday.”
Wide-eyed and frantic, she surveyed her crew. “If you’re offering help, I won’t turn it down.”
“Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be back.”
He hurried in search of Mr. Horton and found the VFW float. It was a simple, but powerful design, replicating a display they’d had every year at the Marine Corps Ball. A plate setting was fixed on a table, and an empty chair draped in black cloth behind it. A symbol of all the men who’d been killed and couldn’t make it home.
Wyatt eyed the float for half a minute, waiting to see if the emotions struck. Nothing could erase all that he’d seen, but the images didn’t surface as often as they once had. He missed Mike, wished that deployment had turned out differently but had confidence in the good they’d accomplished while there.
Life would never be as it had, but it wasn’t supposed to stay the same. What hadn’t killed him really had made him stronger, but only when he’d given it to God. He could reflect on pre-deployment days and remember the good times without the crushing weight of culpability landing it’s anvil on him. Joy took the place of sorrow. Gratefulness replaced guilt.
He traced the scar on his chest through his shirt. He’d fought for freedom while trapped in his private prison. In Christ, he’d found his freedom. He was a new creation. Thank You, Lord, for rescuing me.
“I wondered if you would show.” Mr. Horton’s voice broke his concentration. He was dressed in his Vietnam era army uniform. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“About that...would you be upset if I help Meg with her group?” He pointed in her direction where her ball cap made her easily visible through the crowd. “She’s in charge of ten kids during the parade, and all her help backed out.”
Mr. Horton’s eyes turned to wide discs. “Goodness gracious, please do help her.” He shook his head and muttered, “Parents these days.”
Suppressing his amusement, Wyatt gave him a brief salute. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Absolutely. The safety of our children is paramount.” Mr. Horton clasped his shoulder. “I’ll see you after the parade, but if I miss you, make sure to stop by the house before you head out of town. I’ll have Hattie whip up a couple of her world-famous meatloaf sandwiches.”
He wasn’t hungry, but his stomach grumbled in anticipations of a slab of ground beef between two thick slices of homemade bread slathered thick with butter and toasted. Mrs. Horton’s popular sandwich was right next to bacon on his list of unhealthy foods worth the repercussions. “Name the date, and I’ll be there.”
“I knew that would get you.” Mr. Horton chuckled and waved to a friend across the way. “I’ll talk to the missus and get back to you. Have fun today and enjoy yourself. It’s what they would want.”
He didn’t have to clarify who they meant. They were all the men and women who’d given their lives so America could have parades and picnics on this day.
They were the reason for this holiday.
Chapter Twelve
Wyatt collapsed into a lawn chair. “I’m exhausted.”
“You’re telling me you’ve run twenty miles with seventy pounds of gear on your back, but a mile and a half of watching ten kids wore you out?” Meg raised a teasing brow.
“Hey now, don’t forget two games of baseball, one of croquet, three volleyball games, and the four-mile run with Oscar.”
She moved a purple canvas chair next to him and sat. “All right. I’ll grant you a small excuse to be tired.”
“You’re so kind.” He twisted the cap off a bottle and downed half the water.
“I know.” She issued a coy wink. “Thanks for inviting me today. I forgot how much fun your family can be.”
“Can be?” His lips twisted in feigned offense—the smile in his eyes gave him away.
Leaning over, she elbowed his arm. “You know what I mean.”
“Did your Dad make it to Nebraska?”
“Yes. I finally heard from him on the way home from the parade.” She stretched her arms toward the sky, working out the kinks from using her arms more than usual. “He’s at his brother’s—who already has the next two weeks planned out for him.”
“Staying busy will help him.”
“That’s what we told him. We had to push him to accept Uncle Randy’s invitation and assured him over and over we’d be fine if he went.” She hadn’t thought about today being a holiday. Kelly had invited her to Kyle’s family get together, but she didn’t want to feel like a third wheel, even though the Martins were great. Here, she had Wyatt, and she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left.
“What do you think of Oscar?” He glanced to the grill where the dog waited in hopes of dropped food.
“He’s gorgeous and a sweetheart. I can see why you took him in.”
“Maybe I’m biased, but I haven’t found any major flaws in him yet, other than he likes to chase squirrels.”
The mental image made her laugh. “What dog doesn’t? If I were ever to get a dog, I’d want one like him. Big, but not scary—lovable, sweet and playful.”
“Do you want a dog?”
“I’ve thought about it. Or maybe a cat.” She pretended to wipe an imaginary speck of dirt from her jeans. “Nights are lonely in the house. A pet might help.”
“Go with a dog.” His comment had an arrogant swagger that reminded her of their younger days. “The answer is always dog before cat.”
“I’ll see. It’s not like I’m going out tomorrow and getting a pet.”
Wyatt’s dad walked to the middle of the yard and called everyone to gather. “It’s time to eat. Wyatt, would you mind saying the blessing for us?”
Trying to be discreet, she glanced at Wyatt from the corner of her eyes to gauge his reaction. He’d never been one to pray out loud but didn’t appear fazed by his father’s request. Rather, he took several steps to stand by his dad and took charge.
“Let’s pray.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Father, we thank You for this time together. Thank You for the many men and women who sacrificed their lives so we can live in freedom, and thank You for sending Your son as a sacrifice two thousand years ago. Bless this food and time of fellowship. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Was it irreverent to find a man attractive because of his unabashed willingness to pray in public? She loved this renewed confidence Wyatt had. She’d loved his vulnerable side as well, but there was much to be said about a man who knew what he believed and lived it. What a difference a week can make. He never had gone in halfway. Once he made a decision, he followed it through—one hundred percent. The effects in this case lent him a new, harmonious countenance, and it looked good on him
A line formed at the tables set up near the patio. Close to thirty people had come to the Deluca house for the cookout, and they filed along both sides of the tables to fill their plates.
She waited for Wyatt since she was here as his guest, but when she spotted him snagged by Mrs. Lawler, she went on her own. She picked two sturdy plastic plates from the stack and loaded one plate with a cheeseburger, baked beans, coleslaw, and potato salad. On the other plate, she put Wyatt’s favorites—from what sh
e’d noted, they hadn’t changed much over the years. She got him two hot dogs, baked beans, macaroni salad, and chips instead of potato salad.
Carefully balancing the plates in her hands, she carried them to where Mrs. Lawler held Wyatt hostage with her detailed descriptions of whatever ailments afflicted her that day.
She sidled up to Wyatt, handed him his plate, and addressed Mrs. Lawler. “Do you mind if I steal this handsome man away?”
Mrs. Lawler’s eyes widened and sparkled. If there was one thing she delighted in more than sharing her sicknesses, it was the possibility of love—and if Meg had to embellish a bit to rescue Wyatt, then so be it.
The older woman waved her hands in a brushing movement. “Of course not. Go, enjoy your meal.”
As they walked away, Wyatt leaned his head in close. “Thank you for the save. I adore Mrs. Lawler, but I couldn’t take much more talk of her infected toenail.”
She started laughing, and a snort escaped. “Trust me, you got off easy compared to what we had to hear last year after her bout with a stomach virus.”
“Don’t even think about telling me.”
“I’ll spare you the details, don’t worry.” She had to store away that memory promptly before she lost her appetite. “I won’t be offended if you want to trade out anything on your plate. I was working off memory.”
He glanced down. “Looks great to me. Thanks.”
“Consider it payment for your help today. The kids loved you.”
“They were great.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “However, I was hoping for a different payment.”
Her heart fluttered at the huskiness of his voice. “What did you have in mind?”
“A walk in the woods later.”
“Oh.” Her hopes sank. It was silly, but she’d expected him to say a kiss, and without thinking too much about it, she’d wanted him to ask for one.
“Will you come with me after the party?”
“It depends.” She winked, making light of the request. “Will Oscar come with us?”
“No. Just us.” His voice dropped. “You and me. Alone.”
Hope reignited.
His eyes met hers when she didn’t answer. “Will you?”
“Yes.”
***
No one had set an end-time for the party, and the first guests left at six. By seven, most people were gone except for a few friends of Corie and Noah.
Meg joined the family in cleaning up what remained of the day’s festivities. Most of the food was dumped in the trash after sitting out for hours, but a few desserts like brownies and cake were wrapped and set on the counter.
Her gaze drifted outside to where Wyatt picked up empty cups and flyaway napkins. Would he still hold her to the walk in the woods? Goodness, she hoped so. She wanted to discover the promise his request held.
“You’re good for my boy.” Mrs. Lynn, Wyatt’s mom, came to her side. “He hasn’t been in a good place since the crash, but you’ve brought him out of that dark spot.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything but pray. God did the rest.”
Mrs. Lynn smiled, graceful lines boasting middle-age formed at her mouth. “It’s no secret, I’ve never stopped praying you and Wyatt would find your way back to each other.”
“We’re not—” She had her hopes, but she couldn’t let his mom assume a fact that hadn’t been established.
“Shh, my child. I’ve realized that I can’t keep pushing. It’s not in my hands.” Mrs. Lynn laid a hand on her. “No matter what happens between you and Wyatt, know that you’re always welcome here. I can’t replace your mom—nor would I want to—but if you ever need a woman to talk to, I’m available.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
Drawing her in a motherly hug, Mrs. Lynn cleared her throat. “I’ve missed you. Don’t be a stranger, please.”
“I won’t.” The warm embrace filled a void she hadn’t realized existed.
Mrs. Lynn had been a wonderful mother-in-law and had welcomed her into their family, even when she’d thought her son had married too young. She’d treated Meg kindly, even during the several uncomfortable encounters they’d had since the divorce. Looking back, she realized that awkwardness was one-sided, stemming from the guilt she’d felt for making a rash and poor decision regarding her marriage.
“I can finish in here.” Mrs. Lynn broke the embrace and let out a brief laugh. “Thanks for your help. Corie’s a good child, but when her friends are around, she gets distracted and doesn’t think to help.”
“I can’t believe how grown up she is. I still picture her as the little sister who always wanted to tag along.”
“Soon I won’t have any children left in school.” Mrs. Lynn gazed out the window above the sink, then shooed her with a dishtowel. “Go spend time with Wyatt. Time waits for no one.”
Meg went outside, taking slow steps. She enjoyed observing the interaction between Wyatt and his family. He had good relationships with each of them but treated them each in a different manner. He spoke to his dad with respect, and even though he’d reached adulthood, he still deferred to his father’s requests. Unlike Noah, who’d made a face when their dad asked them to clean up, Wyatt did it without complaint.
When Wyatt interacted with Noah, their brotherly bond was obvious. They joked and ribbed each other, but she’d also witnessed them in serious conversation. Then there was Corie. Both brothers adored their little sister and played their big brother roles well. She hadn’t missed their many glances toward Corie and the new boy she’d just started seeing. Their protectiveness ran deep, and Meg wished she’d had an older brother to watch over her.
She had Kelly, though, and she wouldn’t trade her sister for anything.
Wyatt dropped a handful of garbage into the black plastic trash bag tied to a folding chair and strode her way. “I’m done here. Are you still up for that walk?”
“Yes.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as breathy as it seemed to her.
“Good.” His smile gave her all the confidence she needed.
Confidence for what, she wasn’t sure. To take the first step? To acknowledge her heart still beat for him? Time would tell.
They walked to the far corner of the backyard where a gate opened to give them entry to the woods behind the subdivision. Out of view from anyone else, Wyatt held out a hand.
The next move was hers. Did she brave accepting? After a split second of hesitation, she reached out and wound her fingers with his. A pleasant shiver passed through her.
Silence permeated the air as they walked. Thick foliage, ripened by spring’s rain filtered the sun peeking through the branches. An occasional squirrel crossed their path, and unseen animals caused peaceful crackles in the surrounding groundcover.
When the rippling creek came into view, she stopped walking and inhaled deeply, holding the breath in her lungs. Exhaling, she peered into the water and watched a school of minnows swimming with the flow.
She caught Wyatt watching her with a pleased smile. “What?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that relaxed smile on you.” He squeezed her hand. “I like it.”
Leaning over, she bumped his arm with hers. “The same could be said for you, too.”
“I haven’t enjoyed life for a long time.” He let go of her to stoop down and pick up a smooth stone. He tossed it over the water and watched it skip three times. “It’s nice to be back in the land of the living.”
“Welcome back.” A part of her returned as well. She’d forgotten the satisfaction that came from a walk through the woods with a good friend. She bent down and searched for the perfect skipping stone until she found one. Flicked it into the water and watched it skip four times. The gloating grin came naturally. “Beat you.”
Wyatt laughed. “What’s your prize?”
She crooked a finger against her lips. “Hmm. I’ll have to think about that.”
“Let me know when you figure it out.” He
tossed her a wink then took off, leaving her to catch up several paces.
They came to a small clearing where someone had dragged a felled tree to use as a makeshift bench. The spot wasn’t secret as evidenced by an empty soda can left behind. Wyatt stepped on the can, crushed it to a thin layer of aluminum. He casually picked it up and stuffed it in the pockets of his cargo shorts, to throw away later.
He pointed to the bench. “Want to sit or keep moving?”
She lifted her eyes to the sky. “The sun’s setting quick. We should probably turn back soon.”
“I have a confession to make first.”
Resting her gaze on him, she tried to read his expression, but nothing stood out. “What’s up?”
“That night when we went through the pictures, I took one.” His hand covered the pocket of his shorts without the can. “I’ve been carrying it, waiting for a time to tell you.”
He bit down on his bottom lip and took a deep breath.
Did he think she’d be mad?
She wasn’t. “Which picture was it?”
Reaching into his pocket, he swallowed. Finally, he withdrew a photograph and handed it to her. “One from our honeymoon.”
Nostalgia struck her full force. They’d gone to the beach, the first time either of them had seen the Atlantic Ocean. “I remember this. We kept waiting for that guy from the souvenir shack to come our way, but he skipped right over us, so you asked the sunbathing couple next to us to snap a picture with our disposable camera.”
“They weren’t happy about the interruption, but we got our picture.”
“I didn’t realize this one had got mixed in with my parents’ pictures. I guess I left it behind when I moved out.” She stared at it again, thinking how happy they were then. She had to know. “Why this one?”
“Because it was one of the happiest moments of my life.” He turned his head and stared into the woods. “And . . . I was whole then.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder and nudged him to turn around until he faced her again. “What do you mean?”
The scared look in his eyes went straight to her heart. “There’s so much I want to tell you and ask you, but you need to know the whole truth first.”
