by Leslie Gould
Elena shook her head vigorously, wanting desperately to cheat. There was no way, if Izzy did need glasses, that she would have gotten a pair so soon.
“Okay, you can look now,” Izzy said.
Elena dropped her hands and squealed. Izzy stood before her with a pair of old lady readers on–red glasses with rhinestones on the corners. “Oh my,” Elena said, glancing from Izzy to Rafael and back to Izzy.
Izzy giggled. “They’re just like Aunt Anabelle’s.”
Elena began to laugh. “These are a joke, right?”
Rafael’s eyes twinkled and Izzy grinned from ear to ear.
“Actually, these almost work for her,” Rafael said, “and only cost a dollar.”
“But they’re just until the ones my size come in,” Izzy explained.
“We figured you’d be ready for these in a year or two,” Rafael said, swatting at his mom’s arm as he walked by.
“Ha-ha,” Elena retorted.
Rafael led the way into the kitchen from the carport. “You were right, Mama. Izzy’s farsighted. The doctor said glasses should do the trick.”
Elena sighed with relief, thankful that Rafael had acted quickly once he’d gained some clarity on the situation. Rafael said he had to hurry to finish an assignment before getting ready for work and gave Izzy a hug, telling her she’d been a trouper.
“Do you like them?” Izzy looked up at her grandmother as her father hurried into the house, her eyes sparkling as bright as the rhinestones on the glasses, her gap-toothed smile as cute as it could be.
“I love them.” Elena bent down and kissed her granddaughter on the cheek. “Want to help me finish up with planting flowers? Then we can go read.”
Izzy nodded and carefully took the glasses from her face and put them in a case. “Daddy said to always take good care of my glasses and to only use them for reading and schoolwork. ’Cause that’s what the doctor said.”
A half hour later, Elena and Izzy washed up, then picked out several books and took them into the living room. Rafael, dressed in his white work smock again, joined Elena and Izzy on the couch. The little girl carefully took out her glasses from their case and put them on her face again. Elena had to concentrate on not laughing. Her granddaughter looked cuter than ever.
“What book would you like to start with?” Rafael asked.
“Goodnight Moon!” Izzy grabbed it from the top of the stack. It had been a favorite of hers from when she was tiny. Elena knew she had it memorized.
“I want you to read it,” Rafael said. “Not recite it.”
Izzy looked up at Elena with a confused look on her face.
“Let’s look at some of the letters first,” Elena said, purposefully not looking at her son. “What’s the first letter?”
“I,” Izzy said. “Like in my name.” She bent down closer to the book. “And then an n.”
“Good!” Elena put her arm around her granddaughter and squeezed.
“What does it spell?” Rafael asked.
Izzy paused for a moment and then asked. “In?”
“Great!” Elena squeezed her again.
“What does the next word say?” Rafael had a demanding tone to his voice.
Izzy cuddled against Elena.
“Come on, it’s a really easy word.” Now Rafael sounded a little impatient.
“Why is Daddy mad at me?” Izzy whispered to Elena, low enough that Rafael couldn’t hear. Before Elena could answer, Izzy said loudly, rubbing her temples, “My head hurts.” The readers wiggled up and down on her face.
“So much for the glasses.” Rafael stood.
Izzy rubbed her temples again and then scampered off the couch and hugged him good-bye. “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” she said.
Rafael nodded.
“Will you go to church with me?” She looked straight up at him, her arms still around his legs, her glasses halfway down her nose.
“We’ll see,” he answered. “But I’ll probably be pretty tired. It’s my only day to sleep in.”
“Please?” She pushed the glasses up with her index finger.
“Maybe,” Rafael said.
“Mommy’s going to be there. Right, Buela?”
Elena nodded.
Rafael bent down and gave his daughter another hug.
After he left, Izzy scampered back onto the couch. “I’ll read to you, Buela.” With that she opened the book again and off she went, saying, “‘In the great green room there was a…’” Elena didn’t interrupt to ask her about individual words. Izzy turned the pages at exactly the right times and didn’t miss a word, straight through to the very last, “Good night noises everywhere.”
Candace stood in the open doorway of her house, watching Howie shoot the basketball. It bounced off the rim, but he snatched up the rebound and shot it again, this time swooshing it through the hoop.
“Good job!” she called out, clapping her hands. “Now it’s time to come in and finish cleaning your room.”
“But, Mommy,” he wailed.
“No buts.” She put her hands on her hips. “That was our deal.”
He grabbed the ball and headed toward the house. She stepped aside and ushered him in.
“Mother!” Brooke’s voice came from the family room. “Your cell phone is ringing.”
“Answer it please.” Candace shut the door and pointed to the sports equipment bin, motioning for Howie to put the ball there, not on the floor. He complied.
“It’s Heath!” Brooke yelled.
Candace hadn’t heard from him all day, and they’d only said hello in passing at the hospital yesterday. His high school friend had flown into Peoria that morning and was going to check out Deerford today and tomorrow and then meet with Varner and McGarry on Monday. She was trying her hardest not to worry about her job, but it was easier when she was with Heath than when she wasn’t.
“Hey.” Heath’s voice was cheery. “Would you and the kids want to come over for a barbecue?”
“I told Mom I’d barbecue here tonight.”
“Invite her too,” Heath said. “Dad will be here.” The two enjoyed each other’s company.
“Let me ask her and I’ll call you back,” Candace said.
“Candace…”
“Uh-huh.” She started down the hall toward her bedroom. Maybe he did want to talk about the other night, and she didn’t want the kids listening in.
“How are you doing?” he paused.
“Okay—trying not to worry.”
“I’ve been pretty busy the last couple of days, getting ready for Skip and all that. But I miss you.”
She took a deep breath. “I miss you too,” she said. The loneliness that had started the other night had persisted. She headed down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom, wanting some privacy as they spoke to each other.
“It would be really nice to see you tonight,” Heath said.
“I’ll talk to Mom and get back to you.” She stood beside her bed now, staring at the photo of her and Dean. He would understand her loneliness. He would understand that she’d grown to love Heath. She was sure of it.
“Okay,” Heath said. “Call me back as soon as you talk to your mom.”
Candace stood for a moment longer, staring at her wedding picture, after she and Heath said good-bye. She knew she loved Heath. She wanted to marry him, truly. If anyone could complete her life—and handle her kids—it was Heath. She was surprised at how much she longed for him. How much she felt the way she had when she and Dean first fell in love, even though she was nearly twenty years older now.
She sighed. Love was ageless. And timeless. She was relieved to know she could feel it again.
“Candace,” Janet’s voice came down the hall.
“In here.” She stepped out of her doorway.
“Would you mind terribly if I didn’t stick around for dinner? One of the women from the senior center asked if I’d go to a movie with her, and I was thinking it would be good for me to get out.”
“I w
as just going to ask if you wanted to go to dinner at Heath’s.” Candace clutched her phone in her hand.
“That’s tempting.” Janet tilted her head. “But I’m going to choose the movie.”
Candace eased her grip on her phone. She would call Heath right back. There was nothing she wanted more than to spend the evening with him, his father, his friend, and her children.
Heath was thrilled and told her to come over anytime. Candace peeked into Howie’s room where he carefully returned a book to its shelf. He’d managed to clear a path from door to bed to closet. That was progress.
She stepped back out into the hallway. “Brooke, Howie, get shoes and jackets on. We’re going to Heath’s for supper.”
The children’s cheers were echoed by Candace’s heart.
After a filling meal of grilled chicken, Candace relaxed against the back of the rattan chair on Heath’s deck as he and his buddy bantered back and forth. The day had grown progressively warmer and the predicted rain never materialized.
“Come on!” Skip was practically out of his chair. “You’re the one who stole Mr. Austin’s globe and suspended it in the middle of the gym like a disco ball.”
Heath’s dad put his hand to the side of his head and rubbed his temple as if developing a headache. “There are some things I don’t want to know.”
“Oh, believe me,” Skip boomed, “it gets a lot worse.”
“Did you really do that?” Howie’s eyes were nearly as big as his plate.
“Yes. Um, no.” Heath shot Candace a look. “I had help.”
Candace laughed, sure Howie had no idea what a disco ball was. “This is what people Mommy’s age do when they get together—embellish the past.” She took his plate.
“Huh?” Howie’s head was tilted.
“They’re joking,” Candace said and then muttered, “Mostly.”
“Sorry.” Skip looked demurely at Candace. “So, tell me about Deerford. What are the schools like?”
“Great!” Howie chirped. “Except my class doesn’t have a globe–”
“They’re good,” Candace said. “The class sizes are small. There’s a good gifted and talented program.” Brooke had been part of that since she started school. “And lots of parental involvement.”
Skip looked pleased. “My wife is from a small town in Indiana. She’s tired of the city and wants the kids to grow up in more of a community.”
“That’s Deerford to a tee,” Heath said.
“Margie also wants me to stop traveling so much.” Skip sighed. “It’s taking its toll.”
“What exactly is it that you do?” Candace pushed the stack of plates she’d collected to the center of the table, and Heath jumped up and took them into the kitchen as Skip answered.
“I’ve been with e-Char from the start-up and travel around to hospitals all over the world, implementing the system.”
“Wow.” Candace was impressed that he was one of the founders of an international company. Albert Varner was right. There’s no way a person with his experience would lower himself to work at humble Hope Haven.
“The government’s higher standards on charting have done wonders for our business,” Skip said, “and we already were doing quite well.” He took a drink of iced tea and then said, as Heath rejoined them, “Enough about me. Margie gave me a whole list of things to ask about.” He tapped the side of his head. “Oh yeah. How about churches?”
Howie began kicking the table leg as Candace launched into a description of their church. She told Howie to stop. When he started again, Heath’s dad quietly invited the little boy to go on a walk with him.
“Why don’t you go along too?” Candace whispered to Brooke, who seemed a little miffed to leave the adult conversation—she was probably hoping for more high school prank stories—but followed Heath’s dad and Howie down the steps to the yard. Candace was afraid that if Howie ran ahead, Daniel wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, but Brooke would.
The conversation between Candace, Heath, and Skip continued. Skip said he planned to drive around the next day and look at houses for sale in both Deerford and Princeton, because the Realtor he talked with had said there was a bigger selection in the larger town. That sounded serious to Candace. Still, she couldn’t believe he would really be interested in the Hope Haven job, no matter whether he decided to live in Deerford or Princeton.
After a while, Skip looked at his watch and excused himself, saying he’d promised Margie he would call. Candace and Heath cleared the rest of the table, going back and forth to the kitchen. When all the food was put away, Candace said she’d load the dishwasher.
“I’ll do that later,” Heath said. “I was hoping we could spend some time together.” He grinned. “But not in the kitchen.” He led the way out to the front porch.
They sat side by side on the wooden swing. Heath took her hand and entwined his fingers in hers. “After we said good-bye the other night, I wasn’t sure if I’d communicated what I was thinking very well,” he said.
“Oh?” Candace sat up a little straighter and turned toward him.
“It’s not just that I think, in the long run, that our relationship is more important than what’s going on at work. It’s that I want to invest as much time into us as possible.” He chuckled. “Even though I won’t have much extra time in the next few days. But I feel we’re headed somewhere, and I don’t want to get off track.”
“Somewhere?” Candace nearly whispered the word.
Heath scooted a little closer until the sides of their legs touched. “Yeah. Like in the future. It hit me the other day that when we’re seventy neither one of us will be working at Hope Haven. But I hope we’re—”
“Mommy!” Howie ran up the walkway toward them with something in his hand. “I found a cocoon!”
Candace leaned back against the swing, a little exasperated, but Heath, laughing, leaped to his feet. “Cool!”
Candace sat for a moment longer and then stood too. In a second all of them, including Skip who came out with his cell phone still in his hand, gathered around Howie, who had his hand extended, the inch-long silk case resting on his palm.
“I told him to leave it alone,” Brooke said. “He shouldn’t have disturbed it.”
“Let’s put it in a jar,” Heath said. “Then we’ll let it go after the chrysalis’s pupation period ends and it emerges.”
“Do you think it’s a butterfly?” Howie asked. “Like a monarch?”
“Could be. But my guess is it’s a moth.” Heath patted Howie’s head. “I have an empty jar inside.”
Candace appreciated Heath’s enthusiasm and energy. It was definitely what Howie needed. Her son couldn’t even remember his father. Tears sprang to her eyes. She was sure that was what Heath was getting at. That someday they’d be retired, together, swinging on a front porch.
Later, as she stared at her wedding photo again before turning out the light, Dean felt farther away than ever. A twinge of sadness passed through her, but only for a moment. Her last thought before falling asleep was that she should think about moving the photograph. Not tonight but sometime soon…
Chapter Eighteen
AFTER CHURCH ON SUNDAY, THE SCOTTS AND the Giffens gathered at Ainslee and Doug’s house for lunch, though no one seemed much interested in the coriander-spiced baked chicken or tomato and fennel salad Anabelle knew Ainslee had gone to great pains to prepare.
As soon as the lunch dishes were cleared, the birthday party started. Anabelle took in the scene. Lindsay Belle held the place of honor in her high chair at the head of the table, a bouquet of bright balloons floating above her head. The little darling wore her hair in two little pigtails, sticking straight out from her head.
Ainslee was on her right, putting a single candle shaped like a 1 in the middle of the organic carrot cake, Doug capturing every second on video. Doug’s mother Louise, Cameron, Kirstie, and even Evan snapped photo after photo, while Doug’s father George made faces at the one-year-old, trying to get h
er to smile.
Lindsay Belle was totally unaware of the paparazzi in front of her as she chewed on the wooden spoon Ainslee had given her to keep her occupied. She was also unaware of the pile of presents in the living room awaiting her. She’d been eight months old at Christmas and not old enough to be interested in gifts. It was amazing what a difference of four months could make in the life of a baby.
Anabelle felt the joy of the day as she watched her granddaughter’s eyes grow large as Ainslee put the cake in front of her with the one fat candle burning. Doug, looking extra sporty with his baseball cap on backward, started singing, “Happy birthday to you…” and everyone joined in. Lindsay Belle startled for just a moment, and then a smile spread across her face, showing her two bottom teeth, and she dropped the wooden spoon and began to clap.
When the song ended, Ainslee said, “Blow out the candle.”
Lindsay Belle looked around confused but then Ainslee pursed her lips and began to blow and Lindsay Belle copied her. Together they blew it out and everyone clapped, including Lindsay Belle, her dimpled hands flying back and forth through the air.
Anabelle considered again how much the little girl had changed since Christmas. It would only continue, exponentially, for the next few years. In no time she would be as big as Isabel. If Anabelle retired, she could watch her a couple of times a week. Then when another baby came, she would be available to help Ainslee even more.
She never thought she would be a grandmother who provided child care, but that was before Lindsay Belle was born. It had been a year since that marvelous night, yet it seemed like only a month ago. Cameron turned the camera on her and snapped it.
“Oh you,” she said, waving him off. He came toward her, the camera away from his face, and stood with his hand on Anabelle’s shoulder. She reached up and squeezed it, and he kissed the top of her head. Being a grandmother was more exhilarating than she’d ever dreamed it would be, and she knew Cameron felt the same way about being a grandfather. It was amazing how this little girl had drawn them even closer together. When their children were little, they seldom had the time to step back and just enjoy them. But with Lindsay Belle, that was the norm. She squeezed Cameron’s hand again.
