A Nest of Sparrows

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A Nest of Sparrows Page 5

by Deborah Raney


  “Dani? Honey, what’s wrong?” He sat on the edge of her mattress.

  She took a shuddering breath and lunged into his arms. “I’m scared.”

  “Hey…it’s okay. What are you afraid of?”

  “I don’t wanna be all alonesome. I want Lacey to sleep with me.”

  “But I thought you were all excited about getting your own room.”

  She sniffled in reply.

  Wade gave her a hug and gently pushed her away from him. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  He crossed the hall to Lacey’s room again. Maybe he’d been wrong to take them away from everything familiar so soon. But in truth, the children had spent as much time at his house as at their apartment this past month while Starr had finished painting. He stuck his head in the door. “Psst…hey, Lace? You still awake?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Dani’s feeling kind of lonesome. What would you think if we put your bunk beds back together so she––”

  “Yeah!” Lacey shot out of bed and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Can we do it tonight?”

  He laughed softly. “I’ll get Beau to help. Your room or Dani’s?”

  “Whichever one she wants.”

  “Thanks, Lace.”

  Wade went to knock on Beau’s door, which stood slightly ajar. “You still awake, bud?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Dani’s scared to stay by herself. Would you mind helping me move her bed into Lacey’s room?”

  Without a word, Beau threw off the blankets and swung his spindly legs over the side of the bed. He followed Wade out to the hallway, where the girls were waiting, their matching nightgowns sweeping bare, sun-browned toes.

  “I’ll go get my tools and be right back.”

  He took the stairs down to the garage two at a time, and by the time he came back with his toolbox, Beau had already dragged Danica’s mattress into Lacey’s room and was attempting to pull the heavy bed away from the wall.

  “You girls stay out of the way,” Wade said. “Here…it won’t take but a minute to get this frame apart. Then we’ll need you to hold the doors open for us.”

  The girls trotted out of the room, arguing about who would hold which door.

  Wade and Beau worked together in silence, unscrewing the headboard and footboard from the heavy bed frame. Beau worked adeptly, having helped Pete with this same chore earlier. When they finally had the thing apart, they hauled the sections across the hall. It was awkward, but Beau was surprisingly strong, and between the two of them, they managed to get the bed moved.

  Wade watched him surreptitiously while they put the bed back together. It felt good to be working side-by-side, to have a concrete assignment to complete. By the relaxed muscles in Beau’s jaw, Wade thought he felt the same way. But when the last screw was tightened and he reached out to him, Beau turned away, making a show of wiping his hands on his pajama pants.

  Wade touched the slight shoulder briefly. “Thanks for helping, bud.”

  Beau gave a noncommittal grunt and left the room, closing the door behind him. Wade started after him but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Best to let it go. He’d give it some time. Beau would come around. He turned to help the girls put the sheets back on Danica’s bed.

  When Lacey and Dani were settled in their beds, he gave them one last tuck, planted a kiss on each soft cheek, and started to leave the room.

  “Wade?”

  Lacey’s high-pitched voice clutched at his heart. He turned to face her. “What, sweetie?”

  “If you and Mama can’t get married now, can you still be our daddy in August?”

  His heart lurched. He and Starr had told the children that after the wedding this summer he would be their dad “for real and for always.”

  He went to sit on the edge of Lacey’s bed. “I don’t know, Lace… I hope so,” he hedged. “You get some sleep now, okay? It’s late.”

  The corners of her mouth turned down, and she closed her eyes. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, he knew. It wasn’t the reply he wanted to give. Never in his life had he felt so bereft of answers. But these children had had too many promises broken in their short lives. He couldn’t risk adding yet another to the list.

  The drive-thru at McDonald’s was backed up almost to the street. From the passenger seat beside Wade, Beau mumbled under his breath. “We’re gonna be late again.”

  “I think we’ll be okay, Beau.” Wade mentally kicked himself for not making them a good home-cooked breakfast. He put an arm on the back of the seat and turned to look at his brood. Beau had a crust of dried food at the corner of his mouth. The girls’ mismatched outfits and unruly hair stared back at him, accusing. Eight days into full-time fatherhood, and he was already failing miserably.

  The car inched forward, and Wade looked at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. “Everybody know what they want?”

  “I want the same thing I always get, Wade,” Dani chirped from the back seat.

  “I don’t remember what that is, sweetie. You’re going to have to tell me when it’s our turn to order.”

  Lacey let out an impatient breath. “She gets a Egg McMuffin with no meat, and a orange juice, remember?”

  In spite of his effort not to echo the exasperation in her voice, his words came out loud and gruff. “No, Lacey, I don’t remember. That’s why I asked.”

  Beau leveled an icy glare at him. “Sheesh, you don’t need to yell at her.”

  “I didn’t mean to yell.” Wade took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Lace. But, hey, you guys are going to have to give me a break here. I’m not your mama. I can’t remember everything.” Even as he spoke the words, he cringed inwardly. Why did he have to go and say that?

  The dead silence in the car let him know his words had hit their unintended mark. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the girls’ bottom lips puckering in identical pouts. Beau stared out the window, his demeanor grown colder, if that were possible.

  But there wasn’t time to apologize. The car in front of them moved forward, and he pulled up to the speaker. “Okay, guys, give me your orders.”

  Beau turned and reached over the back of the seat to nudge Lacey. “Tell him I want the Number 3.”

  Great. Now Beau was giving him the silent treatment as well. Wade felt like he’d been slapped. Didn’t the kid know he was doing the best he could under the circumstances? Surely Beau was old enough to understand that he was hurting too. But this was no time to address the issue. They would be late if he launched into a lecture.

  For once, they got their food in record time, and amazingly everything on the order was correct. Momentary peace reigned in the car while the kids downed their breakfast and Wade navigated the streets to Beau and Lacey’s elementary school.

  In front of the school, he eased into the line of vehicles dropping off students––mostly mini-vans piloted by moms, Wade noticed. Lacey gave him the usual good-bye kiss, but Beau got out of the car without a word, noticeably avoiding Wade’s gaze.

  He waved at the boy’s bowed back as he disappeared into the crowd of students on the sidewalk in front of the school. A heavy sigh escaped his lungs. He’d thought maybe he and Beau had reached a truce the night they worked together moving the bunk bed into Lacey’s room. But if anything, Beau had pulled further into himself.

  The impatient toot of a horn brought him back to the present. Waving an apology to the car behind him, he pulled into the street and turned in the direction of Danica’s preschool. He looked at his watch again. He’d missed almost a week of work and had taken off early every night this week. Now he was taking another day off to tend to some of Starr’s business. Pete couldn’t have been more understanding, but this couldn’t go on forever.

  He would call Sophie tonight and see if she could start picking the kids up from school and watch them until he got off at five. It would tick her off royally. She worked the late shift at the café and usually fell asleep watching her precious soap operas
every afternoon. But if he was going to survive this single parent thing, he could not miss any more work.

  He pulled into the preschool parking lot and jumped out of the car. Danica was already unbuckled and out of her seat by the time he got around to the other side. Taking her hand, he started up the walk, noticing her thumb was back in her mouth again. Now he knew how Starr had felt with the weight of the world on her shoulders. How did real fathers know what to do in situations like this?

  He put a hand on Dani’s head as they walked toward the entrance to the school. The tangled mess of hair beneath his palm reminded him again of his complete inadequacy. “Hey, sweetie…” He reached and gently nudged her hand away from her mouth. “Remember?”

  She wouldn’t look at him, but at least her thumb remained out of her mouth.

  They came to the door, and he knelt on the sidewalk in front of her. “You have a good day, okay?”

  She peeked out from under too-long bangs and nodded solemnly.

  He leaned to kiss her good-bye, and Dani lunged for him and wrapped herself around him, almost bowling him over. Though she didn’t shed a tear, Wade could feel the desperation in the thin arms around his neck. He was barely surviving without Starr––barely eating, hardly sleeping, just going through the motions. How in the world was this little girl supposed to make it without her mama?

  Was he being selfish to think he could raise these kids on his own? Was he crazy to even try?

  Chapter 7

  The Coyote Manor Nursing Home was a beehive of activity this time of morning. The cloying antiseptic odor of the place made Wade’s nose sting as he walked past the reception desk and down the corridor. He nodded to a couple of nurse’s aides he recognized as friends of Starr’s. They flashed him a now-familiar expression––the one that said, “Oh, you poor, poor thing.” He was sick of it. Even if he agreed with the sentiment.

  As he rounded the corner to the wing where Starr had usually worked, he was awash in a strange sense of anticipation. He half expected to see her come bustling around the corner looking like a teenager in her colorful uniform, her blond ponytail bouncing. He shook off the feeling, surprised by its power. But the lump lodging in his throat threatened to choke him.

  He cleared his throat and approached the nurse behind the desk. “Is Mrs. Houstead in her office?”

  “I believe so. You can go on down.”

  Wade went down the hall to the administrator’s office. The door hung ajar a few inches. He knocked tentatively.

  “Come in,” a gruff voice shouted.

  He’d met Velda Houstead at a couple of office parties Starr had dragged him to. Not many people intimidated him––certainly not many women. But this one did. Big time––a fact Starr had always found amusing.

  He stepped into the tidy office and dipped his head in greeting. “Good morning.”

  “Hello, Mr. Sullivan.” The woman rose to her full six feet and reached across her desk to shake Wade’s hand before taking her seat again. “I suppose you’re here about Starr?” She screwed up her face in a way that was almost comical. “We…we’re sorry for your loss. She was a good woman.”

  “Thank you. Yes. She was.”

  Mrs. Houstead straightened in her chair and tented her hands in front of her, suddenly turning all business. “Now. How can I help you?”

  Wade dug in the pocket of his jeans and produced a key ring with two small keys attached. “I thought I should return these. I think they came from here.” He laid the keys on the desk. “And I wanted to check on… I think Starr said she had some insurance through the nursing home?”

  “That’s right.” Mrs. Houstead opened a desk drawer and put some papers on the desk in front of her. She did not, however, offer them for Wade’s perusal. “The only beneficiaries Starr named in this policy are her children,” the administrator said, “and since the children are all minors, the policy can only be paid to the children’s guardian.”

  “That would be me,” Wade said with a slight nod.

  “Of course you’ll have to contact our insurance carrier, but they will need legal proof that you are the children’s guardian before they can cut the check.”

  He nodded again. “Can you tell me…the amount of the policy?”

  She pressed her lips into a hard line. “I’m afraid that information is only available to the legal guardian of the children,” she repeated, slipping a business card from beneath the paper clip that secured the sheaf of papers. She held out the card.

  He took it, glanced briefly at the insurance company’s information, and sighed. “Well, I am acting as their guardian. As you may know, their only living relative is Starr’s sister.”

  “Oh? It was my understanding that the children’s father was still living. I assume he has been contacted?”

  Wade tried to think how to answer her. “Actually, his whereabouts are unknown,” he finally said. “Um…Would you happen to know what it takes to make me ‘legal’?”

  She shook her head vigorously, as though he’d just asked something preposterous. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t presume to advise you in the matter. I assume you would need to talk to someone in Child Protective Services. But perhaps Starr’s sister should be consulted. It seems she is the logical one to raise the children.” She leveled her gaze at him, and her dark eyes bored through him. “Let me be frank with you, Mr. Sullivan. The amount of the policy is nothing to get excited about.”

  Was this woman implying that he was only interested in the money? It was not in Wade’s nature to be rude, but Velda Houstead’s brash demeanor would have incited rudeness in Miss Manners.

  He stood and strode from the office before he could say something he would regret.

  As he walked by the dayroom, someone called out, “Hey there, young fella!”

  In a nursing home full of people with dementia, he supposed it wasn’t unusual to hear shouting, but since he was the only “young fella” around, he turned to see an elderly gentleman waving at him from a chair in the corner of the room. The man looked vaguely familiar.

  Wade went over to the chair and bent to speak to him. “Hello there.”

  “Sit down,” the man commanded.

  Wade was in no mood to humor a senile old codger, but he sat uneasily on the edge of the vinyl-upholstered chair the man was pointing to.

  “Aren’t you the young fella that was fixin’ to marry Starr Parnell?”

  Now Wade remembered. Starr had introduced him once when he’d come to pick her up from work. “Yes,” he said. “I’m Wade Sullivan.”

  “Jake Pedersen.” The man offered a frail hand.

  He shook it. “Jake. How are you today?”

  “I’m mad, that’s how I am today.”

  “Oh? Why is that?” What had he gotten himself into? He looked around the room, wondering how he could make a graceful escape. But the man’s next word’s startled him.

  “I’m mad because I’m still sittin’ here doing nobody no good, and that sweet girl of yours is lyin’ in the ground while her babies go motherless. Don’t seem quite right to me. Does it seem right to you?”

  Wade gulped and looked at the tiled floor. “No, sir,” he said finally. “It doesn’t seem right. But…Starr’s not lying in the ground. She…she’s in heaven now.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “Yes, sir. I do.”

  “Well, how do you account for a God who’d do that to her kids? And to you?”

  Wade shot up a quick prayer, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Was this some kind of cruel test? He cleared his throat, deciding honesty was the best policy. “I don’t know the answer to that. I just know that God hasn’t changed. He…He’s still good.”

  Jake harrumphed. “Don’t reckon she’d agree with that, do you?”

  Suddenly Wade felt defensive for Starr. “She would agree, sir. She loved God. More than anything else. She never put her trust in anything down here because she knew this earth wasn’t all there is to life.”
/>   The old man thought for a minute. “You think that’s why she always had that purty smile on her face?”

  “Yes.” Wade swallowed hard, realizing how true it was. “Yes, that’s why.”

  “Well, may be. But don’t sell yourself short, son.” Jake Pedersen actually winked at Wade. “I think you mighta had a little something to do with that smile yourself.”

  Wade grinned through his tears. “Thank you for that, sir.” He stood and shook the man’s hand again.

  “You be good to those kids, you hear?”

  Wade nodded again and escaped to the parking lot. He climbed into his truck, bent over the steering wheel, and wept.

  Ten minutes later, he was on the highway, driving too fast and trying to squelch the sudden assault of fears that pelted him. What if they wouldn’t name him the children’s guardian? In spite of what Velda Houstead had implied, he didn’t care one whit about the insurance money.

  Starr had made pitiful little at her nursing home job. He knew how tight it had been for her and the kids—how she’d lived paycheck to paycheck. After they’d become engaged, he’d often helped out with her bills when she came up short at the end of the month.

  He and Pete always had more jobs than they could handle. If they had to, they’d hire help and take on an extra remodeling job or two. Pete had been bugging him to do that for a couple of years now anyway.

  No, it wasn’t about the money. But what if they took the kids away from him? Mrs. Houstead had implied that Starr’s sister would be the best one to raise them. The woman obviously didn’t know Sophia Braden. Okay, maybe she’d do as good a job as he was doing so far. To be honest, he could understand why people might have a problem with a single man raising three little kids on his own. Shoot, he had a problem with it. But what other choice did he have? No way in the world was Sophie going to agree to take the kids. And if she didn’t, and if they took the kids away from Wade, they’d put them in foster homes. Maybe even split them up. He could not let that happen.

 

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