I nod, drinking in the young man next to me. His brown eyes as big as saucers, like Wayne’s. Although my wavy hair disappeared as soon as my pregnancy test was positive, Noah has some curl in his dark hair. Since school started, he’s grown four inches. It’s hard not to stare.
He catches me looking and starts fixing his hair. “What? Is there something in it?” He touches his chin. “Do I have a zit?”
“No, you’re fine. Didn’t you say Ben has a new video game available at the store to rent?”
His eyes sparkle. “Yeah. Derek has it, and he said it’s amazing. Can we get it?”
There’s empty dishes and pans strewn across the table and countertops. Instead of cleaning them, I reach for my purse. “Let’s go.”
⌛⌛⌛
An hour later, Noah has the car chase game set up, and hands me a controller.
“I don’t know how to play. What do I need to do?” I look over the buttons and they’re foreign to me.
“It’s easy. Use the arrows. Push ‘A’ to accelerate and ‘B’ to brake.” He presses things that change the television screen until a racetrack shows up.
“Why do I have a funny feeling it’s harder than you make it sound?”
Within seconds, a green light appears, a car starts moving, and the sound of screeching tires fills the living room. No matter how fast I hit arrows or push letters, Noah’s car leaves me in a trail of dust. His laughter, complete with a cracked voice, rises above the roar of cars.
“Mom, you’re in last place. The cop car isn’t even bothering to chase you.”
We giggle until my car turns around and hits a fence. Then it’s full laughter. I glance over and try to remember each sound. The hole in his jeans. The faded Newsboys T-shirt. Even though I’ll only be an hour away, not seeing him during the week will hit me hard. Starting school winter semester in the Adirondacks wasn’t my smartest choice, leaving commuting out of the question.
Noah looks over. “You okay?”
I rest the controller on my lap. “I’m going to miss you.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re going to Gloversville. You’re not even leaving the state.”
Right. Well, it’s going to feel as if we’re continents apart.
Before tears can form, three quick knocks come from the front door. I sniffle. “It’s Wayne.”
Noah drops the controller and springs to the door. “Coming.”
The two walk into the living room, Wayne playfully slaps our son on the shoulder. “Ready for our guy’s night?”
The two face each other and Noah grins. “Yeah, I am.”
I stand and muster a smile. He’s wearing a black cable knit sweater and jeans. It’s a handsome look I’ve learned the hard way not to enjoy for more than a second. “Wayne. Hello.”
Wayne turns to me. “Hey, Carla. Thanks for letting us do this. Noah and I are going to have a great time.” He returns his attention to Noah. “I wanted to rent this one game that I heard was amazing but–––” Wayne notices the television screen. “You have it.”
“We rented it. Did you want to borrow it? You couldn’t do any worse than I did.” I walk over to the console and press eject.
Noah laughs. “Dad, she was the worst.”
Wayne chuckles and takes the game from my hand, our fingers touching. “Thankfully she did a much better job in real life driving around for work. She’s led more than one ambulance to an accident in snow or fog.” He lowers his voice. “The county’s going to miss you. Are you really going to become a hairdresser?”
I open my mouth to reply, but there’s another knock, followed by a door opening.
“It’s me. Will.”
“We’re in here.” I call out.
Will appears a few seconds later at my side. “What are you guys talking about?”
Wayne speaks up. “About Carla’s career change. Being a hairdresser.”
My boyfriend smiles. “Even I know it’s not called that anymore. She’s going to be a stylist.” He leans down to kiss my cheek. “And she’s going to be a great one.”
Wayne bites his lip for a moment then turns to Noah. “We should go. Ready, bud?”
Noah holds up his index finger. “Give me a sec to grab my bag.” He dashes down the hall.
“Wayne, remember I want Noah at church tomorrow. On time.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
Will nods. “Remember, if you have any plans with Noah for the week, call first.”
The room feels like the temperature dropped twenty degrees. Wayne turns on his heel and heads for the door without saying a word.
Will playfully nudges my elbow. “So? What do you want to do? We have the evening to ourselves.”
I blow out what has to be a batch of hot air. “What was that about?”
He scrunches his eyebrows together. “Huh?”
“Your testosterone-fueled comment toward Wayne. Was that necessary?”
Noah skids to a stop, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Everything okay?”
I refuse to look Will’s way. “Have a great night, sweetie. I love you.”
Noah shrugs and walks away. “Love you, too. See ya, Will.”
Once the door slams, Will replies. “He asked if there was anything else.”
I roll my eyes and return to my chair. “Wayne was talking to me.”
Will lets out a long sigh. “Of course he was. Wayne’s always talking to you.”
I look up, trying to discern the look on his face. Jealousy? Insecurity?
“Carla, if I was out of line, I apologize. I don’t mean to be a jerk.”
Neither do I, but fear has a way of bringing out my worst.
My voice isn’t much more than a whisper. “Well, you sounded like one.”
Will walks over to the couch and plops down hard enough that air squeals out of the cushion. “I’m sorry. It’s hard, you know?” He rakes his hand through his chestnut-colored hair. “I don’t know where I fit in with Wayne in the picture. He will always be a part of your life because of Noah.”
I swallow, but my throat is dry. “Will, this is the first lap of a long race for all of us. Wayne hasn’t been a part of my life in fourteen years. Now he is, for Noah’s sake. I strongly believe I have to forgive him for the past and trust him with our son. I’m trying.”
He clasps his hands together and rests them on his knees as he bows his head. “You’re a great mom.”
I rise and join him on the couch. “I wish I was a great girlfriend. Sorry I got so defensive.” I place my hand on his.
Will lifts his head and slides closer. “You’re amazing. You don’t give yourself enough credit, either.” He chuckles. “I don’t give you enough credit. You and Wayne are in the past. Any romance you had is ancient history.”
I smile and close my eyes as Will leans in for a quick kiss. But my twitchy fingers still burn from the tingle Wayne gave only minutes before.
⌛⌛⌛
Two cups of black coffee still don’t give me the energy I need to get ready for church in the below-zero temperatures. Usually I’m one of the first in the parking lot, but as I drive down Route 8, a couple thoughts come to mind.
Noah’s not with me this morning. My first day of cosmetology school is twenty-four hours away.
As I pull into my usual spot and reach for my purse, I spot Sara Bivins, matriarch of Speculator Falls and Ben Regan’s grandmother. Once I leave the car and walk toward her, she waves.
“Carla, dear. Are you ready for the big transition?” She reaches in to deliver one of her famous bear hugs.
Once I get my breath back, we stroll into the church together. “Yes. No. Most of the time. Okay, not really.”
She chuckles and reaches for my hand. “It’s scary, I’m sure. Career-wise, it’s a very different path. You’re leaving Noah for the first time. I have a feeling that wasn’t an easy decision for you.”
Sara’s always been such a source of wisdom over the years.
“I know he’s in g
ood hands with Will, but you’re right. It’s hard. I admit, I also feel pressure. What Howard Wheaton did was so generous and gives me the opportunity to have a career with normal hours doing something I love. But I have a fear I’ll fail.” It’s so easy to share with the woman who reminds me of Mrs. Claus with her snow-white hair and rosy cheeks.
“Carla, don’t you allow that kind of thinking for a minute. You’ve been great at everything you’ve put your mind to. This is the desire of your heart. Don’t let any voice but God’s lead you.”
The sanctuary doors open and Shirley McIlwain is the first to wave us over with the church bulletins in hand. Sara lets go of my hand and marches toward the woman with enormous glasses.
With Sara out of earshot, I whisper to no one particular, “I actually feel guiltier about going away to school because I don’t think I deserve it.”
⌛⌛⌛
Pastor Craig Reynolds makes a beeline toward me after service. He reaches inside his suit jacket pocket and hands me a business envelope. “Carla, I’m sorry we missed your party. This is a little gift from Brooke and me.”
I bite my lip and look to the thick covering. “Do you want me to open it now?”
“Sure.” He cranes his neck. “In fact, Brooke has another package for you.” Pastor waves her over.
Brooke crushes me in a hug. The envelope gets stuck between us, but her embrace is such an encouragement, I don’t mind. “Carla, if you need anything while you’re in Gloversville, you just yell. I’ll pick up Noah from school, help Will with meals, you name it.” She reaches in her purse for an accordion-style folder and hands it to me.
“You both are too much. Will and Noah get along great. They might not do things the way I want them to, but I think Noah will be fine during the week. The biggest hurdle in my mind was Noah’s dad agreeing to let Will take care of him. Wayne could have made things difficult.” I insert my nail into the envelope and wiggle until it opens. A stack of plastic cards rests inside, and I pull them out.
“That one is from us. We tried to think of something helpful and we thought gas cards were practical. Although you’ll stay in Gloversville during the week, it’s still a commute back to Speculator Falls.” Brooke reaches for her husband’s hand.
“This is too much.” My voice catches.
“Nonsense. Please take them.” Pastor’s gaze challenges me as much as his sermons.
“Okay. Thank you.” I tuck the cards in my purse.
“Now, this one is from the congregation.” Pastor smiles.
I unravel the string and the top from the folder springs loose. A thin sheet of paper is the only contents, and I reach inside.
“This is for rent or anything not beauty school-related. Everyone wanted to contribute.”
There are a few zeroes attached to the amount. My hand starts to shake. “Even Kyle Swarthmore?” I need to make light of the situation so I won’t cry.
Brooke chuckles. “Yes, he donated. We all wanted you to know we support you. We’re family.”
Pastor nods. “She’s right. We know it hasn’t been easy for you raising Noah, and whatever we can do to help, this church is behind you.”
The room suddenly feels warm and it’s packed with people. “Again, it’s so generous. I don’t deserve such kindness. I can take care of my son, I mean, it’s been just us all these years.” My eyes dart around the lobby as I look for a way out.
Brooke releases Pastor’s hand and reaches for mine, giving it a squeeze. “Carla, we know you can. You’re a great mom. The check is a love note of sorts from your church family.”
Church family. Why love someone who became a mom her senior year in high school?
I release Brooke’s hand.
Will spots us and saunters over. “I see Carla has the church gift.” He places an arm around my shoulder.
“She does, and a little gift from us. Like we told her, if you need any help with Noah, let us know. I’m an empty nester more than willing to lend a hand.” Brooke, with her wide smile and ability to get even the most resistant of teens to hug her, is the quintessential mom. Unlike me.
He drops his arm and faces me. “Well, sweetheart, there’s another surprise waiting for you in your garage.” His eyes are so wide and bright he looks like a kid on Christmas morning.
Wait a minute. I was in law enforcement for years. How did I miss a surprise in the works?
I flash a smile toward our pastor. “I guess it’s time for me to head home. Thank you both for everything. I plan to be in church Sunday, so I’ll see you then.”
Fifteen minutes later, I pull into my driveway. Noah and Will open their doors and sprint toward the garage before I turn off the ignition. Okay Lord, what are they up to? My steps crunch as I take tentative steps in the gravel toward the building so small I refer to it as my shed.
“Okay, Mom. Close your eyes.” Noah’s voice cracks as he calls my name.
“I’m not inside yet.” Even after ten years at this property, I can’t navigate with closed eyes.
“No worries. I’ll guide you.” Will sounds closer with each word. Within seconds, he’s at my side and taking my elbow. “Noah did most of the work.” His husky voice sounds sweet in hushed tones.
“Lead the way.”
Once we enter the garage, Noah gives the next instruction. “You can open them now.”
I focus on the smiling teenager pointing to a large, wooden, Adirondack business sign resting on a couple chairs.
Carla Rowling: Stylist
“Noah. It’s beautiful. You spoil me. Truly, this is gorgeous.” I walk over and trace the lettering. A vision of his father giving me a high school woodshop birdhouse flashes through my mind.
Noah clears his throat. “You really like it?”
It’s tempting to run over and crush him in a hug. “I love it, and you for working so hard on this.” Instead, I walk over and give a gentle embrace, then share the same with Will.
"I can't wait for you to open your own salon.” Will spreads his hands in the air. “I can see it now, your storefront. The sign swinging in the breeze."
My breathing quickens. "You forget something. I haven't had one hour of training. I need a thousand. There's a long haul between me starting school Tuesday and unlocking the door to my own shop." Visions of hair color experimenting, perms, and shampoo practice dance around my mind.
"Sweetheart, I believe in you. I'm in for the long haul, too. Nine months is nothing. I'm just putting it out there, but as far as I'm concerned, be ready for me to be by your side for the next nine decades, give or take." Will plants a tender kiss on my forehead.
Those words would be music to any woman’s dreams. So why do I feel like I’m listening to rap music at an opera?
Chapter Three
Noah slings his backpack over his shoulder and grabs a banana. “Mom. Seriously. I’m in eighth grade. I’ve been in the same building since pre-school. You know, down the road? It’s no big deal.”
I pick up my purse and fish for my keys. “Still, I didn’t want to leave for Gloversville until I know you’re safe at school.”
He sighs. “You’re not the sheriff anymore. And this isn’t New York City.”
“It’s not so much about safety. It’s that I won’t see you until Friday evening.” I jostle the keys as I steal a glance at my not-so-little boy. No more Batman backpacks.
“Right. You’re living with some old lady during the week.”
We walk toward the front door, Noah is only about half an inch shorter than me.
“A widow. Definitely going to be different than what I’m used to.”
He nods and jogs ahead, keeping the door open so I can pass by. Once he locks it, he saunters past me. “The late bell rings at eight. I better get moving.”
I stop in front of my truck. “Wait. You really aren’t letting me drop you off?”
He keeps his pace, but turns back to me. “No, thanks. Have a good week.”
“I love you. Don’t forget Will’s pick
ing you up after school.”
I receive a wave in return. What about a hug?
With a sigh, I open the truck door and throw my purse next to one of my packed boxes.
“Love you, too.” He calls, his curls bobbing as he walks out of view.
⌛⌛⌛
It’s odd driving without a squad car filled with a scanner, siren, and lights. Brad Paisley’s newest CD keeps me company as I navigate my 4x4 to the Gloversville address I’ll call home for the next nine months.
An hour later, I park in front of an older Colonial with a white picket fence. "Okay, this is it." I reach for my purse and dig out the key the landlord, Betty Cross, gave me when Will, Noah, and I visited the house and signed the short-term lease a few weeks ago.
The woman with silver hair and a kind smile calls from her open front door. "Oh, great. You're here. Come on in, no need for a key." I pause and turn toward her with a smile and wave.
"Betty, hello. I wasn't sure if you’d be home.”
She chuckles. “Dear, where else would I be? I’m a bit of a homebody, but so glad you’re going to be a boarder here. My sister invited me to play Bunco at the senior center, but I couldn’t imagine not being here to greet you.”
“That’s so sweet. Thank you.” With suitcase in hand, I trudge across the snowy sidewalk and up her uneven porch steps.
She keeps the door open, and I notice when I step through that a hinge is loose. Definitely not secure, especially for a widow in town.
Her kitchen table is set with sandwiches and fruit slices. "Are you excited about school? I'm fascinated with your plans. Help yourself, and tell me all about it."
The widow sits and rests her elbows on the table while waiting for me to join her.
I choose a tuna sandwich, take a couple bites, sip some milk, and wipe my mouth with a napkin. "Me? I don't think my schedule is exciting. Maybe different. I'm anxious to get started. Truth be told, I'm restless to get back to Speculator Falls and see how Noah fared without me."
Betty claps her hands together. "That's right, you have a son. Is he staying with your husband while you're here?"
Husband. That term and me never made a lot of sense. The mere mention of the word feels like a stab to the heart.
Entangled: Surrendering the Past (Surrendering Time Book 2) Page 2
