Returning Home

by Toni Shiloh

  He tapped his hands against his right leg. What should he say about it? It was filled with good, but the accident seemed to have overshadowed any joy in his previous years. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Okay, start after high school graduation. Where did you go?”

  “To the Air Force.”

  “What?! Really? I didn’t know that.” She laid a hand on his arm and his skin heated from her touch.

  He cleared his throat. “I did four years which was enough for me to know I didn’t want to make a career of it. It’s not that there was anything horrifying that happened to me or anything like that. I just like being my own boss, having a little more freedom than the military lifestyle allows.”

  “I can understand that. What did you do in the Air Force?”

  “Security Forces. That’s the name of the Air Force police force.”

  “Wow. What happened after you got out?”

  “I knew I didn’t want to stay in the Air Force, so I took a few college courses while I was in and got an associate’s degree in Criminal Justice. When I got out, I decided to go to Purdue to pursue my bachelor’s degree.”

  “You went to Purdue?”

  He looked at her noting the incredulous tone of voice. “I did.”

  “That’s awesome. Did you get your bachelor’s?”

  “I did and was able to play some basketball as well.”

  “Wait, you played basketball at Purdue?”

  “Yep, I was a point guard. Even though I didn’t get all the press, I was just happy with the opportunity to play. It’s always been my dream to play, but I thought my chances were gone when I went to the military instead of college right away.”

  “What did you get your degree in?”

  “Sports Education.”

  “Wow, Evan, I’m proud of you.” She paused. “I take it the accident changed things,” she said softly. “How did it happen?”

  “Ahh, the accident. Are you sure you want to hear this story?” Because he didn’t really want to tell it.

  “I do. Isn’t that part of getting to know one another?”

  “True.” He took a deep breath. He hadn’t talked about it to any of his friends. “The night of the accident, my ex-girlfriend Brenda was driving. I had just bought a new car and she wanted to drive it.” He shrugged. “So I let her. We were headed out to eat, only we never made it. A truck hit us head on. He was drunk.”

  Jo gasped, still managing to keep her eyes on the road.

  Evan continued when he realized she kept glancing over at him, waiting to hear the rest of the story. “The truck veered off into our lane and hit my side of the car, which took the brunt of the impact. Brenda broke her right leg, but my left leg was basically crushed. The doctors did all they could, but it couldn’t be saved.”

  “I’m so sorry, Evan. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.” There was a slight pause before she continued. “How come you didn’t return to Freedom Lake sooner?”

  “I had to wait until I could heal completely. I had some internal injuries that aided in my long hospital stay. My mom and dad took turns coming out, so that one could stay behind at the B&B. Their visits kept me from falling off the edge. I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t come.” He snorted. “This is great date conversation, JoJo.”

  “Well, how can we know if we’re ‘complementary’ if we don’t discover who we are?” She winked at him.

  “Indeed.”

  From that moment, he made a point to make the rest of the conversation light. Despite the awkwardness of the conversation, he was thankful that the story was out and he wouldn’t have to repeat it.

  JO STARED AT THE PORCH light illuminating the front of her house. She swallowed as Evan opened her truck door. She’d had a wonderful time tonight, but now the anxiety of being walked to the door weighed her down. Would he kiss her or would that be considered going too fast? Would he hug her and if so, what kind of hug? A date hug or a church hug, leaving a wide ol’ space between their bodies? She blinked rapidly as his cologne drifted toward her.

  What was that scent? It had driven her crazy all night. It was like woods met spice in a tantalizing mixture. He offered his arm and she hooked hers through his as they walked up the sidewalk.

  “I had a wonderful time tonight. I hope you’ll go out with me again.” He stopped and looked at her, the porch light casting a warm glow over them.

  She glanced at his mouth then quickly back at his eyes. “I’d like that.”

  His face lit up. Heat flushed her face. Should she smile back? Lean closer? She took a step forward. Evan let go of her arm and stepped back. “Good night, JoJo.”

  She watched, bewildered by his abrupt departure. No kiss? Did her breath stink? She had wanted him to kiss her, but at the same time she was afraid the nerves would threaten to choke her. Had he picked up on her anxiety? She watched forlornly as he made his way down the street toward Darryl’s place, where Senior would pick him up later.

  He waved again, and she turned and went inside.

  What an anti-climactic night.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Evan pulled up to his house and grinned. He’d passed his driver’s license test. With his new home almost ready, independence was a fresh coat of paint away. Well, maybe Jo had more to do than that. His cheeks felt like they could touch his ears he was so happy. Was it the fact that it was his house or that he drove here? Never again would he take driving for granted. Fortunately, driving with a prosthetic had been easier than he expected.

  Thankfully, Jo had already leveled the sidewalk. She said she would be working on the laundry area since the kitchen had finally been completed. He opened the car door, pulling his prosthetic out before swinging the rest of his body, so that he could stand.

  His gait faltered a bit in his rush to see the state of repairs. Of course, knowing Jo was inside fueled his movement. Their date had been great and he kicked himself all weekend for not kissing her goodnight. The way her hair had fallen gently on her shoulders, the porch light illuminating her rich brown skin...she’d been stunning, but the timing felt off.

  Who was he kidding? Evan snorted. He’d been afraid of losing his balance. What would happen if she kissed him and he had fallen backward? Was that even possible? He proceeded in the house and walked past the foyer. He stopped when he saw Jo.

  She ran a hand across the quartz countertops, looking pleased with her handiwork and completely unaware of his presence. He studied her as she stood back, hands on her hips. Today she was back in her standard overalls with a Henley sweater, but it didn’t detract from her looks. She was still beautiful, but he would never forget the sight of her in that dress.

  He groaned. You’re an idiot. You should have kissed her last night. “Hey JoJo.”

  She looked up and paused, a pensive look on her face. Whatever she had been thinking went away as a calm façade covered her face. “Hey, Evan. Come look at your kitchen.” She held her arms out Vanna White style.

  Evan walked toward the brown quartz kitchen island. She was right, it would look great with some barstools. “This is fantastic, Jo. I can’t wait to see the barstools in here.”

  She smiled at him. “What do you think of the cabinets?”

  The empty frosted cabinets looked back at him. Would it matter what kind of plates he owned? He never cared before, but all of a sudden the details mattered. Especially, since he valued Jo’s opinion. She had assured him the frosted cabinets would enhance the look and value of the house. He stared at her, struck by an idea. “Come pick out plates with me?”

  “What?” she asked with a laugh.

  “The cabinets need plates. Will you come?”

  “I don’t think so.” She turned around, her laugh quickly replaced with a frown. Was she mad at him?

  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She stared at the counters.

  Since there was nothing on them, he knew something was up. Why did women
always say ‘nothing’ when it was obviously something? “Come on, JoJo. What’s up?”

  “Fine,” she snapped, whirling around. Her hands gripped the island. “Why didn’t you kiss me the other night?”

  His mouth dropped open. Never in a million years would he think she was upset about that. Besides, wasn’t it gentlemanly not to kiss on the first date?

  JO STARED AT EVAN, wishing she could reel her words back in. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but it had bugged her all day Sunday.

  “I didn’t want to rush things.”

  “Oh.” Of course he had a good reason. Now she really wished she could take her question back.

  She turned toward the cabinets, trying to hide her embarrassment. Should she go shopping with him? Visions of aqua plates danced in her head. They would look perfect in his kitchen. The light color would contrast perfectly with the dark brown wood. Or red plates.

  Jo turned around to say ‘yes’ and yelped. Evan had walked right up to her. How does he move so quietly?

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” His dark brown eyes danced in merriment.

  “I just didn’t expect you to be so close.” She doubted he was that sorry.

  “Why not? Isn’t that how one kisses?”

  “What?” she squeaked, taking a step back. He wanted to kiss now? Now, when she was covered in dust from the plaster of the walls? Now, when her hair had been pulled into a haphazard bun?

  “I really wanted to kiss you last night, but I was afraid it was too soon. I didn’t want to appear foolish.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. He’d been nervous? She cleared her throat to reassure him. “It’s okay, Evan. We can take our time. I’m sorry I said anything.” Her pulse jumped in the base of her throat.

  “Are you?” he asked, taking a step closer.

  Jo stepped back and stopped abruptly as the counters hit the back of her legs. Did she make them too low? No. She vaguely remembered lowering them to check the wheelchair height. Obviously, she forgot to press the button to raise them to standing height. She licked her lips. “I’m fine now. You made a very good point about—”

  Evan leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers. They were soft, as if asking her permission. With a small gasp of delight, she slid her hands up his arms and around his neck and kissed him back. He was kissing her, dust-covered-overall-wearing Jo Ellen Baker. Her body warmed as his hands cradled her head. Vaguely, she realized her hair flew free and his hands were threaded in them. She breathed in his scent as she stepped closer, putting into her kiss all the longing that had been building in her since he asked to be friends.

  “Excuse me.”

  They jumped apart as the sound of Michelle’s voice penetrated their kiss-induced haze.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” she said with a smirk.

  Jo glanced at her friend, hoping her eye daggers were finding their intended mark.

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “Your mother’s looking for you. She says you need to come home ASAP.”

  Of all the rotten timing!

  Evan stepped back, holding her loosely.

  “Did you tell her I was working at Evan’s house?”

  “Of course. She said she couldn’t come down here and that you needed to make your way home now.”

  Jo groaned. Why was she summoning her now? She looked at Evan and he gave her a reassuring grin.

  “It’s all right. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “You sure?” She whispered the question since he still held on to her waist.

  “Positive. Go, I’ll be waiting.”

  “Thanks.”

  He bent down and kissed her forehead. A flush started at her neck and went up to the top of her head. She ignored Michelle’s look as she grabbed the keys to her truck. Her mother had better have something important to say.

  “JoJo wait up.”

  She turned as Michelle followed her outside.

  “That was some kiss.” Michelle wiggled her eyebrows.

  The girl was a clown sometimes. “We’ll talk later. Apparently, the great Victoria Baker summons.”

  Michelle stepped forward, a note of seriousness replacing her early playfulness. “It sounds bad, whatever it is.”

  She bit her lip. “She always sounds like that.”

  “I think it was something more.”

  “Okay, thanks for the warning.”

  Five minutes later, Jo pulled up to her mother’s house. She grimaced and laid her forehead against the steering wheel. “Do I really have to go in?”

  God, it’s me again, Jo. I have a situation here. I don’t know if I can handle my mother today. Please, guide my words. Help me to be nice and not let her get to me. Amen.

  Jo got out of the truck and headed inside. She paused, listening for sounds. Not a peep. She glanced around. All the curtains were still drawn. Her brow furrowed. What is going on? Maybe her mother was in her room. She’d probably find her in the sitting area of the master bedroom.

  She climbed the stairs, trying to keep the dread at bay. The house was eerily quiet. Could Michelle have been right? Could something truly be wrong? Jo knocked softly on the door to her mother’s suite, wincing as the sound seemed to echo upstairs.

  “Come in.”

  Please, be with me, Lord.

  She went in and stopped. The room was pitch black. Blackout curtains hung from the windows. Most likely, the blinds had been closed as well. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust. When they did, she made out her mother’s figure lying in bed with an arm over her eyes. “Mother, it’s Jo.”

  “Don’t you think I know the sound of your voice?” her mother’s tone was laced with disgust.

  She crept closer to the bed. “Sorry, Mother. What’s going on?”

  “Don’t you know what day it is?”

  Jo frowned. It was the first Monday after Thanksgiving. Christmas cheer had descended like a madness. She searched her brain trying to find any other significance than that. “I don’t know.”

  “Really? You of all people?”

  What in the world? It wasn’t the anniversary of her father’s death. None of the Baker’s had a birthday in December. How was she supposed to know the significance? “I’m sorry, Mother. I don’t have a clue.”

  Her mother heaved a sigh and threw back the covers. She sat up, tightening the sash on her pink silk robe. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and slid her feet into a pair of fuzzy high-heeled slippers.

  “Of all my children, I thought for sure you would remember our wedding anniversary.”

  Jo closed her eyes. How could she forget? But then again, why did her mother care?

  Her mother walked toward her vanity and sat down. “I was depending on you to remember, Jo Ellen.”

  “I’m sorry.” She stared at her mother, not sure she had heard correctly. Since when had she ever depended on her, and not to simply run errands for her.

  Her mother waved her hand. “Spare me the sorry. I knew Darius wasn’t going to remember. If it weren’t for his wife, he wouldn’t remember his own birthday.”

  Jo wanted to laugh but, judging from the tone of her mother’s voice, that would not go over well.

  “And Vanessa,” her mother shook her head. “That child is oblivious to anything that doesn’t involve her. But you,” her mother turned and stared at her.

  Although it was dark, Jo felt her piercing gaze.

  “I thought for sure you would remember, considering you picked out the anniversary presents.”

  “How did you know that?” Though she barely spoke above a whisper, the harsh silence magnified her voice.

  “Oh please, Jo Ellen, you really think I thought your father bought those things? He hates shopping.”

  True. But the thought of her mother knowing all along flabbergasted her. Jo thought her mother would hate the gifts if she knew who had picked them out.

  Her mother reached for a tin jewelry box and opened it. Holding it reverently, she pulled o
ut a man’s wedding ring. “Every year, you two would go out the day before and on our anniversary he would present the gift with such pride.”

  Tears spilled over. She wiped them away, shocked at their presence. Shopping with her dad had been great. Neither one of them cared to do it, but spending time together had brought them both pleasure. He’d always buy her an ice cream cone after they had picked out the gift. Jo had always thought her brother and sister had missed out on the fun. And her mother knew the whole time?

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

  Her mother looked up from the ring, her gaze meeting Jo’s in the vanity mirror. “Why else do you think I kept the gifts, Jo Ellen?”

  “What? But...but you hate me!” The words tore from her mouth, and all the hurt and anger from the past ripped open her heart. She wrapped her arms around her stomach as if she could hold herself together. But her wounds were too deep, too fresh.

  “Jo Ellen, how could I hate you? You’re the first child I’ve ever been proud of. I may be a Baker, which I became out of respect to your father, but I have always been and will always remain a Holliday. And Holliday blood runs strongly through your veins, my dear.”

  Jo collapsed onto the floor. This was too much. All the years she thought her mother hated her. How could Jo believe anything she said? “Do you even know why you got the jewelry box?” she asked her mother, skepticism coating her words and sending them flinging like arrows.

  “Of course I do. It was for our tenth anniversary. The first year you started helping him buy gifts. The ones before that were hideous.” Her mother shuddered delicately.

  Jo stared, flummoxed. Her mother knew all these years? “But you hate the way I dress. You’re always trying to change me.”

  “Of course I do, dear. What mother doesn’t want to dress her daughter up?”

  “But you hate that I renovate homes.”

  “Do I need to repeat myself?” Her mother arched an eyebrow. “That business killed your father. Don’t you think I want better for you?”

  The question hung in the air, but her mother continued, giving Jo no time to measure the weight of her words. “The doctors asked for your dad to take it easy, but he refused to listen. In the end, it killed him. I want more than that for you.”