The Bridge Between

by Lindsey Brackett

  She’d narrowed her eyes each time with his emphasis. Slicing the last carrot, she banged the knife on the counter. “Fine. Our dog for our kids. And you remember you said that, not me.”

  He felt safe enough now to retrieve a Pepsi from the fridge and pass one to her. The boys banged back in the front door. “So, when are we doing this?”

  “Doing what?” J.D. rounded the corner first, followed by Mac and Cole who pushed their way into the small space to open the refrigerator. He and Lou were hip-to-hip again.

  “Your father,” she slid her eyes over to his, “thinks we should get a dog.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, awesome!”

  “Can we go today? After we finish our game?” Mac led the charge back out the door.

  Lou kept her eyes on his, their blue depths unreadable, but a smile twitched her lips. He almost bent his head to hers, wanting to see if he could tease out more than a smile. But instead, with great effort, he reached around her and plugged in the Crockpot. “What do we do now?”

  “Come over here and we’ll do a little research. Daddy used to have a friend in Charleston who bred goldens.”

  He joined her at the computer set up on his tiny work desk. She sat in his swivel chair and twisted like an impatient child. When he pulled another chair over from the table, her spinning made their legs collide.

  His hands stilled her knees. “Calm down. We’ll find what you want.”

  Beneath his hands, her legs jerked. Her blue eyes had gone dark, pupils widening as she stared at him. He lifted one hand and cupped under her chin, passing his thumb over her lips—

  “Dad! Where’d you put the football?”

  She pulled back, the wheels on the chair pushing her beyond his grasp. He dropped his hand, but kept his eyes fixed on hers.

  “In the front closet, Cole. With all the other equipment.”

  The door slammed again, and he reached forward and drew her chair back beside his.

  “What are we doing, David?”

  He heard the tremble in her voice, the worry and fear so like his own. With great effort, he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. The stubby ponytail she could now wear made her girlish again, and he remembered how skittish she’d been when they first met.

  “We’re getting a dog,” he told her, smiling. “That’s all for now.”

  ~~~

  When David had asked Lou’s father if he could marry his daughter, they’d had to drive all the way into Walterboro, and even then, there’d been no fancy restaurant. Just the soda fountain on the square. He could still remember dripping burger grease all over his dress slacks.

  But T.C. had been gracious—even as he gruffly informed David he’d only ask him to do one thing. “Take care of my daughter. I don’t want her to keep thinking she can only count on herself.”

  Lou’s father died before they divorced, but David always figured he knew it was coming. Like he also believed T.C. and Annie never stopped praying Lou and he would work everything out.

  As he pulled into The Hideaway’s drive, David hoped there was no statute of limitations on when God answered prayers.

  With the perk of business owner, Tennessee commandeered the best table, in the corner of the screen porch. The February day had turned mild enough that Lou, who’d complained incessantly about the cold all winter, actually removed her jacket.

  She’d worn slacks to church, as was her habit, but chosen a demure blue sweater studded with tiny pearls along the collar for her top. David had given it to her one Christmas, and he’d felt a rush of hope when he saw her come in the church doors that morning.

  The shoulder of her coat slid from the chair and dragged on the floor. As he leaned over to retrieve it, he whispered, “You look nice today.”

  The flush barely touched her cheeks, but he sensed the glow. Satisfied, he shifted his seat a bit closer to hers, making sure Tennessee understood, for today at least, Cora Anne’s parents were a united front.

  The young man he’d come to admire over the last nine months rarely lacked poise. But today, Tennessee fidgeted with his fork, raked fingers through his blond hair, and tugged constantly at his tie. Only at Annie’s funeral had David ever seen the man in a tie.

  Lou read over the brunch menu. “Their ham biscuits are almost as good as my mother’s. We might have to get some extras for the boys.”

  “Ben’s been listening to his chef—and Hannah.” Tennessee’s bold grin seemed to drain the tension from his face. Once the server had filled waters and coffees, he settled his elbows on the table. “I’d bet my stake in this business, you know why I’ve asked you here.”

  David glanced at Lou. “I’m sure we do.”

  “It’s simple as this.” Tennessee spread his hands wide. “I love Cora Anne, and I have for a long time. I think even when we were kids, there was a …”

  He faltered and Lou picked up softly. “A connection. Yes, we saw it.”

  David covered the hands she was twisting in her lap with one of his. Their daughter and this man moved like two pieces of a whole, in sync with one another’s thoughts and plans.

  Maybe, for them, that had always been the problem. Despite the advice her father had given him, Lou and he had operated in their own spaces, rather than fusing their lives into one.

  “I bought a ring.” The words came from Tennessee with great pride and equal fear. “And I’m going to ask her to marry me if—” He sat straighter and his jaw squared. “If you’ll give us your blessing.”

  If. David doubted there was any power on earth that would keep this man from his daughter. Before he spoke, he looked to Lou for confirmation, as perhaps he always should have. She turned her hand beneath his, and their fingers slipped together. Sharing this moment.

  “Our blessing is yours.” David’s voice trembled. “Welcome to our family.”

  Now he only needed to put that family back together again.

  Chapter 25

  On the first Thursday afternoon in March, Lou needed to be in three different places, one right after the other. Since cloning hadn’t worked yet, she jotted down a plausible schedule and ignored the warning light on her van’s dash. She didn’t have time to deal with an oil change today.

  At home, the ecology students required her to sign off on water and soil samples. At the college, Liam wanted her to present with him during a lecture. Soon as she finished the students’ reports, she hightailed it to the Charleston campus. Her interjections as Liam taught—mostly she repeated what he said using her father’s everyday vernacular—drew laughter and questions from his students.

  With her schedule already fifteen minutes behind, she had no time for pride.

  “You’re in a rush,” Liam observed as she swung her laptop bag over her shoulder and gathered her coat.

  “Boys’ first game. Got to make it to Colleton High by five.” She wound a scarf around her neck, waved, and dashed out of the lab.

  But this time, when she turned the ignition of her faithful minivan, the engine made no sound. Lou furrowed her brow and stared at the dash. Blank. And dark. Even the digital clock showed no numbers. Lou groaned and dropped her head on the steering wheel. A new battery at the very least. But likely, something more complicated.

  And expensive.

  She fumbled in her purse for her cell, though calling David would do no good. Even if he answered—which was rare when getting ready for a game—he was nearly an hour away.

  A light rap on her window made her squint against the low-hanging sun. Liam. Relief coursed through her, and she pushed open the door.

  “I wouldn’t call this running.” His easy grin made her smile in return—despite the frustration.

  “It’s dead.”

  “Need a jump?”

  “Not sure that will even work. Nothing’s on at all, see? And it’s clicking when I turn the key.” She caught a whiff of his cologne as he peered in and pulled back. No inexpensive Old Spice for him.

  “Guess I’ll have to dr
ive you. Good thing I like baseball.” He leaned in again, his face close to hers. “And you.”

  ~~~

  Liam let her navigate and kept the conversation light as they plowed down the highway in his Land Rover. They pulled in the full lot at the high school baseball fields just as the boys’ team took the field.

  “Did I miss anything?” Lou rushed to David who leaned against the fence, rather than sitting in the stands.

  “Nope.” He looked at her and then over her shoulder. “Liam.”

  The men shook hands without any camaraderie.

  “Van wouldn’t crank.” Her words came out in a rush, like her day. “Had to leave it in Charleston, so Liam drove me.”

  “I told you to let me look at it last week.” David crossed his arms.

  “Why?” Frustration threatened to erupt. “So you could look under the hood and say, yeah, you should take it to the shop?”

  “Well clearly you should.”

  “And obviously you don’t understand what all I’ve been dealing with lately.”

  A crack of the bat pulled their attention. The ball sailed high and landed neatly in J.D.’s outstretched glove in center field.

  “That’ll get it done!” David pumped his fist in the air, Lou clapped, and their son threw the ball to the pitcher.

  She gasped. “Cole’s starting?”

  “Yeah.” David’s shoulders relaxed. “Made the eighth graders mad, but he’s better.”

  She moved next to him, twisting her fingers through the chain link beside his. The cold metal cooled her anger. She wasn’t the only one who’d been busy. “You’ve been coaching him.”

  “A little.”

  “He mentioned something the other night, but I was working on my application and forgot.” She hadn’t even looked up when Cole came in before bed. He’d dropped a kiss on her head, telling her she’d be surprised soon.

  “I was a pitcher myself, back in the day.” Liam’s voice reminded Lou she owed him some gratitude—or at least a cup of coffee.

  David arched a brow. “You played ball?”

  “How I put myself through school. You?”

  “Catcher. Shortstop sometimes.” David turned his attention back to the game as a ground ball skidded across the infield. “Like Mac.”

  “He’s being modest.” The words popped out, and so did David’s eyes. She’d argued plenty, but praise had been less frequent. Maybe it wasn’t too late to rectify that mistake. “David was a star for Emory until he hurt his knee. Then he became the most-winning coach in North Georgia.”

  Liam rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets. “Why’d you quit coaching?”

  David’s gaze swept over hers. “Life changed.”

  Cole struck out the last batter, and David jogged down the fence line as the boys came in, talking smack with the team.

  “Your kids just made those guys go three up, three down.” Liam shook his head. “That’s pretty impressive.” He strolled beside her in search of coffee at the concession stand.

  “David bought them their first gloves for their first birthday.” She glanced over at his tall form, now assuming a stance beside the dugout. “I was afraid he’d push too hard, but they’ve always loved it.”

  “Can I ask you something personal?”

  She tugged at her scarf and shrugged. “Sure.”

  “What happened between you two?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Liam stooped and tilted his head, forcing her eyes to meet his. “I mean, you seem to get along, you obviously love raising your kids together … he watches you. Especially if I’m around.”

  Heat crept under her scarf. David’s eyes were, in fact, on them now. He’d turned from J.D. warming up his swing, and looked, she knew, for her. She held up one finger and tipped her chin toward the concession stand. He shook his head in return and rotated again, his back telling her he didn’t like seeing her with Liam. A sense she’d felt from the moment the two men had met.

  But what did it mean?

  “Lou?” Liam touched her elbow. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  She startled. “Oh, no. I’m fine. David and I … we just …” She blinked against the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “We fell apart is all. And I never figured out how to put us back together.”

  Liam lifted the collar of his coat as he nodded. “I never figured out how to put my marriage back together either.” At the counter, he ordered coffees and wouldn’t let her pay. Heading back to the stands, he added, “But you know, I never tried.”

  “Do you wish you had?” Why was she asking him this—as though she had time to think about anything besides her kids and bills and career?

  “Sometimes. But then—” he lifted one shoulder and offered her a sheepish grin—“I met you, and I’ve hoped, maybe I might get a fresh start.”

  A fresh start. Like the way coaches pulled pitchers when they got too tired, so they could keep the game in their favor. On the field, J.D. had gotten a single, the second batter popped out, the third advanced, and now Mac batted cleanup. He swung hard and the contact sent the ball soaring over the heads of the outfielders. J.D. slid around the bases for home.

  “Go, go, go!” David jumped along the fence.

  Lou would have joined him if not for the hot coffee and the conversation she’d rather not be having at her sons’ ballgame. She cupped her hand around her mouth. “Way to go, boys.”

  David faced her again, arms thrown up in a what-did-I-tell-you gesture, and she found herself, despite Liam’s admission, laughing. Those were her boys dominating this game, and her heart swelled with David’s jubilance and maternal pride.

  And she knew what she needed to do. “Liam, right now, my whole life is a fresh start. And I honestly don’t know what’s happening.”

  He nodded. “In that case, I think I’ll keep on keeping on, and we’ll see.”

  “All right.”

  “But for right now—” He glanced at his watch. “If David can get you home, there’s a lecture I need to facilitate.”

  He had driven her all the way here at the cost of his own time crunch. His kindness warmed her as much as his words had a moment ago. “Of course. I’m so sorry to inconvenience you—”

  He put his hand on her arm. “Lou, time with you is never an inconvenience. But I am in the way here. This is a moment y’all should have.” He squeezed her elbow and strode away.

  “What was that about?” David didn’t take his eyes from the game when she came to stand beside him.

  “He needed to leave. All right if I hitch a ride with you? I’m going to call a tow truck about the van, I guess.”

  The batter in the box swung and then beat on the dirt when the umpire called third strike. On the mound, Cole grinned wide, and David swung an arm around her shoulders. “I guess we could let you hitch a ride home with the best middle school players in the Lowcountry. Since you birthed them and all.”

  And Lou leaned into his side, thinking about that fresh start.

  Chapter 26

  They went out for pizza after the game, and David figured his prayers were working awfully fast, though perhaps he should be a little more specific. Lou’s wince when the tow-truck company quoted her the cost chastised him. But he’d wanted to jump for joy—like he had over Mac’s homerun—when he saw Liam Whiting’s retreating back.

  At a Pizza Hut off the highway, they ordered pan pies loaded with meat and cheese, and Lou didn’t even bother advocating for vegetables. She fixed herself a salad but praised the boys for their game—and to David’s surprise, him for his efforts helping them learn.

  “Maybe you’re all headed for scholarships to fancy colleges like your dad.” Lou ruffled Mac’s hair and pulled back, grimacing. “But first showers. How anyone can sweat that much in forty degrees is impressive.”

  “It’s the price of victory, Mom.” Cole flexed his arm. “Ow. So is soreness.”

  “Take some ibuprofen and get some ice on t
hose muscles when you get home.” David helped himself to another slice of pizza and divvied up the rest among the boys. “Pitching an entire game’ll take a toll on you.”

  “And on my washing machine.” Lou’s eyes roamed over the boys’ dirty uniforms.

  On the drive home, the boys tried to talk over one another, in competition, David suspected, for his and their mother’s attention—though like all young teens they’d never admit it.

  At the farmhouse, the porch lights were on, and Cora Anne’s car and Tennessee Watson’s truck were parked side by side.

  “What are they doing here?” Lou climbed out of the Jeep, casting a wary look his way. No doubt they knew why their daughter and her beau were waiting for them at nine o’clock on a Thursday night.

  “Cor better be ashamed she missed our game.” Mac swung his bat bag over his shoulder. “We’re way more fun than an old museum.”

  “Say hello and then hit the showers, guys, please.”

  David caught up with her on the bottom step. “It’s been a great evening, Lou. Don’t rush this moment.”

  She jerked her arm away. “My whole day has been a rush. Don’t you think I’d like to do this when we have time to celebrate?”

  David swallowed a retort. Just when he thought they’d taken a leap forward, her need for control snapped like a coach losing in overtime.

  Cora Anne and Tennessee were in the living room, books spread on the coffee table. Evidently they’d been killing time studying Edisto history for her upcoming lectures at the museum.

  “Don’t sit anywhere,” Lou admonished the boys when she could get a word in over their din of sharing the game’s highlights with their sister.

  “Sounds like we’re not the only ones who had an incredible night.” Cora Anne’s smile radiated across the room, and David had to catch his breath at the sight of his daughter’s happiness. How long they’d waited to see hope shining again in her eyes. He reached for Lou and slid his arm around her shoulders.

  She didn’t move away—nor did she soften against him. “I guess you’ve got some news for us.”

  Cora Anne crossed the room, Tennessee at her heels, and gave her left hand to her mother. Lou took it, caressing the setting of diamond and sapphires, as a single tear slid down her cheek.