by Leah Atwood
Making the most of their too brief visit, he’d come to the restaurant, assisting her with tasks before he took off for California in less than an hour. She tore the lettuce by hand, giving up on a knife when her hands were too shaky. The greens filled two large square plates. Then she took two hard-boiled eggs and sliced them, arranging oval pieces on a corner of each bed of lettuce. Lastly, she took the seafood salad from the fridge and dropped two large scoops on each plate. It wasn’t the fanciest meal, but a widely popular one among guests and it was quick and easy to make, the salad having taken only ten minutes to mix when she first came in that morning.
“What can I do?” Rob asked, speaking for the first time in five minutes.
“You can grab the drinks.” She put a fork on each plate and carried them into the dining room.
Following her, Rob carried two glasses of sweet tea. He set them on the table where she’d stopped. “This looks great.”
“I figured after last night’s dinner, and since you’ll be on the road today, you wouldn’t want anything heavy.”
He pulled out a chair for her, scooted it back in as she sat. “By the way, you were right about Gram. On my way out, she handed me a cooler filled with food and ice packs.”
“Told you she would.” She chuckled once. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, my family thinks food is the solution to everything.”
“I think that’s just good, ol’ southern hospitality.”
“Is your mom excited to see you?” Out of habit, she tapped the wood tabletop.
Drawing in a heavy breath, he set down his fork, the lettuce he’d stabbed still on it. “She doesn’t know.”
“Rob.” She gasped. “You can’t just show up after ten years with nary a word.”
His shoulders sagged. “I know.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want her to make a big deal out of it.”
“I hate to break it to you,” she said, arching both eyebrows, “but it is a big deal.”
“You don’t know my mom.” A faraway look in his eyes was unreadable. “You think your family has lots of get-togethers? If mom had a hint of warning, she’d have every aunt, uncle, cousin and neighbor we’d ever known over for a party.”
“Ah.” His reasoning clicked. He’d hidden it well, but Rob had a rare modesty that didn’t care to attract attention. “If it gets to be too much, I’m only a phone call away.”
They finished their meals in subdued silence. Both knew he had to leave, and neither wanted to acknowledge it. Goodbye was quickly becoming her least favorite word.
Pushing his hands against the table, Rob was the first to stand. “Walk me out?”
Lumps of emotion crowded her breathing. A five hundred mile separation was bad enough. Two thousand were unthinkable. She fought back tears—a few days here, several hours there, was never going to be enough. Somehow she’d find a way to be happy with the time they had, however limited it was. As Mom always said, she could do anything as long as it was temporary.
“I’ll be back, Dani. I promise.”
They’d walked outside and were standing in front of the Jeep. Don’t fall apart. “You better.” It was meant to be a joke, but came out weak and unsteady.
He brushed her hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger. When he drew it away, the callused tips of his fingers grazed her cheek. “I love you.”
She tried to speak, but nothing came out.
Rob dropped a kiss on her forehead, went around to the driver’s door. He got in, buckled up then rolled down the window. “I’ll call you when I stop tonight.” The engine cranked.
Why couldn’t she say anything? She had to find her voice. “Wait,” she finally said. “I love you, too.”
A lazy smile parted his lips. “I know.”
Chapter 22
Sunlight came through the window, warming Rob enough for him to avoid turning on the heat. He didn’t recall the desert being so cold, but then, he had been gone a third of his life. There would likely be many more things remembered during this visit that he’d long forgotten.
Very little was on either side of the road he drove on, other than some scrub and sand. Fifty miles back, a jackrabbit had run across the road, the only sign of life he’d seen outside the small towns scattered along the highway. The lines on the road became a blur. Pulling off the asphalt, he parked and took a break. Thirty miles to go until he got to Sand River.
He needed to focus, shake the memories from his head. Glancing up, he remembered the note stuck in his visor that Dani had slipped him Friday morning. He pulled it out, rereading it for the tenth time. It was a simple note, a handwritten verse from the Bible. “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”
It was a promise and affirmation he held close to his heart because he needed all the strength he could muster. The onslaught of memories hadn’t been as potent as he’d expected, but they were there, nonetheless. If anything positive could be said, it was that the recollections didn’t conjure the emotions they once had—guilt, despair, loss. Instead, they were images of a time in his life he’d rather not remember, but that no longer held him captive.
He rubbed his temples, uttering a prayer. He opened the door and stepped out, took a deep breath of the dry air. Reaching inside, he grabbed his phone and called Dani.
On the second ring, she answered. “Hi, did you make it?”
Her cheerful tone did wonders for him, and his shoulders felt lighter. “Not yet. I’m still thirty miles out.”
“You’re on the home stretch.” Her voice lowered and switched to one of concern. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay, better than I anticipated.” He nudged a rock in circles with the toe of his boot. “It’s weird, you know? Everyone always says you can’t go home again, but here I am, going after all these years.”
Silence spanned over the phone line. He was about to say something else when she spoke. “Things there are bound to have changed, but so have you. You’re a different person than you were when you left, even than you were a year ago.”
“Thanks, Dani.”
“Remember, I’m only a phone call away, day or night.” Her sigh echoed through the phone. “I wish I could be there with you.”
“I’ll fly you out here.” They both knew he wouldn’t, not that he wasn’t willing. This was something he had to do on his own. But the next trip, she was coming with him. He wanted his family to meet her, know her, and love her.
Dani laughed, a light chuckle. “Be careful what you offer.”
“I should get back on the road. I’ll call you later this afternoon.”
“Drive safely.”
He slid back into the driver’s seat, tossing his phone into a cup holder. Half an hour later, he pulled up to his parents’ house. Not much had changed about the sprawling, one-story, white brick structure. The same stone birdbath still sat in the front yard, the beak of the carved swan still chipped.
One garage door was open, and a late-model, top-end sedan with temporary tags filled the bay. He smiled—it was his mom’s present from him for her sixtieth birthday—her first brand-new car ever. His dad had helped him orchestrate the surprise last month.
“Thank you,” she’d said. “I love it, but what I’d love even more would be to see you.”
They’d had the same conversation almost twenty times. Once every year on her birthday, and again at Christmas. As the years progressed, the conversation was extended.
“If you won’t come to us, let us come to you,” she’d begged.
“I’m not ready.”
He’d been a rotten son, there was no excuse. That ended today.
His fists clenched and unclenched. This shouldn’t be so hard. Just get out and walk. One step at a time.
He did it. He got out of the Jeep, his keys clinking in his shaky hands. Reaching the door, he pressed the glowing button to ring the doorbell. Footsteps approached, each step, making his heart pound harder. The door opene
d and his mom appeared. Recent pictures he’d seen of her didn’t do her justice. She was still beautiful even though older. Her once blonde hair was beginning to turn a silvery-white and her once flawless skin was aged, but none of it diminished her beauty.
He knew the moment she realized it was him standing there. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Extending her arm, she felt his cheek as though he might be an apparition.
“My son,” she uttered in full awe. “Please tell me I’m not imagining you standing here.”
“You’re not.”
She took a step forward, then clung to him. “I’ve been waiting so long.” Streams of tears rolled down her cheek, flooding his shirt.
Wet clothing was the least of penance he could pay. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”
Heaving cries subsided, and his mom stared at him from behind a tear-streaked face. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
When his mom let him go, which was a good ten minutes later, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s been at your sister’s since church let out, helping to put together a play set Jamie bought on clearance.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Listen to my rambling. Come in. You’re staying for a while right? I won’t blink and open my eyes to find you gone, will I?”
A wry smile turned into a chuckle. “I plan on staying a few weeks.”
His mom squeezed him again. “Come, sit, and I’ll call your father. Can I tell Jamie? The kids would love to meet you.”
Her exuberant words, spoken out of pure joy, slapped him in the face. He was an uncle and hadn’t even met his niece and nephew. Guilt will eat you if you allow it a home. “Thank you Gramps,” he whispered.
“What was that?” His mom tilted an ear toward him.
“Nothing, and yes, please tell Jamie. I’d like to meet Jordan and Cheyenne.” There was no going back, only moving forward. He’d lived, and he’d learned some hard lessons.
“What do you drink? Are you hungry?” She flitted around the kitchen like a worker bee.
“If you have any tea, that’s fine.” He sat down at the solid oak table, the same one they’d had when he left and probably would have for years to come.
Seconds later, a tall glass of tea sat in front of him.
“It’s not sweetened because your father has to watch his sugar intake, but here’s some you can add.” She set a clear bowl in front of him and handed him a spoon. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m going to call over to Jamie’s.” She stopped in her tracks and stared at him another long minute before leaving the room.
Rob rapped his knuckles against the table to the beat of a song the band had recorded several years ago. Looking around, he was amazed how much of the house was the same as a decade ago. His gaze landed on a calendar and he read some of the entries. Mary—Hair Appointment. Frank—Dentist. Dinner w/ the Johnstons. Some things never changed.
“They’re coming right over. It’ll be about fifteen minutes.” She grabbed the pitcher of tea and topped off his drink. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to eat? You’re so skinny now.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.” He gestured to the other seat. “Sit down. You don’t have to wait on me.”
She took a deep breath, but sat in the seat opposite him. “I’m just so happy you’re here.” One arm rested on the edge of the table. “Why now?”
“It was time.”
Pinning him with a stare, she softened it with a gentle, but sad smile. “It’s long been time. Something must have changed.”
“I met someone.” He’d waited to tell his mom in person about Dani. Even now, the mention of her made him grin. “She’s amazing.”
Joy lit his mom’s entire face. “Tell me about her, please.”
“Her name’s Dani, and she’s Bryce’s cousin from Louisiana.”
“A Cajun girl?”
“Yep, through and through, except she’s terrified of alligators.”
His mom laughed. “What else?”
“She’s twenty-eight and owns her own restaurant. You’ll like her, Mom. She’s gorgeous, sweet, fiercely loyal, smart, dedicated. Anything good that can be said of a person, goes for her.” Man, he missed her already. “She’s also a Christian. Her faith is deep, not in the in-your-face way, but in a solid, show-it-through-living way.”
“That’s so important, Rob. You can’t imagine how thankful I was when you told me you’d found your faith again. Your father and I never stopped praying for you. We still do every day.”
“Thank you.”
“Will we get to meet Dani?” His mom stood and moved to the counter—she never could sit still for long.
“I sure hope so.” He retrieved his phone from his pocket. “Want to see a picture of her?”
“Of course.” She took a few steps and stood, looking over his shoulder.
“This is her outside Ryman Auditorium when she and Gram came to visit.” Scrolling through the pictures on his phone, he stopped at one that Dani’s mom had taken on Thanksgiving. “This is us last Thursday night.”
“It does your mom’s heart so much good to see you in love. I worried about you, after losing Carrie the way you did, that you’d never open your heart again.” She squeezed his shoulders.
“I hadn’t planned on it,” he confessed. “But now, I think I was being prepared for Dani.”
The front door opened.
“That’ll be your sister and her crew.” His mom tugged at him, prodding him to stand. “Get ready for the ambush.”
“WHEW.” ROB WIPED his brow and collapsed in an Adirondack chair in his sister’s backyard. “I don’t know where you find the energy to do this every day. I always thought I was in good shape, but they’ve worn me out.”
Jamie, sitting in another chair, laughed. “You get used to it.”
Adapting to the role of uncle came naturally to him, he’d discovered. Jordan and Cheyenne were a rowdy pair, and at seven and six years old, reminded him of Jamie and himself at that age. All mischief and imagination. At the moment, they were spending their Friday night playing pirates and treasure hunt in Jamie’s backyard.
“When are you leaving?” Jamie asked.
“In another hour or two. Cheyenne asked if I’d stay until bedtime.”
“I’m not talking about tonight.” She crossed her ankles and looked at him.
His elbow was propped against the chair and he rubbed his forehead. “Another week. I have to be back in Nashville the day after New Year’s and I plan to stop by Oden Bridge on the way back.”
For three weeks, he’d crammed in every second possible with his family, rebuilding bonds that had suffered from his absence. Dani had been right—he needed this trip, but his place was with her. Even returning to Nashville didn’t hold the same lure.
“You won’t make us wait another ten years to see you, will you?” She bit a fingernail, a nervous habit he’d noticed that she’d picked up since he’d left.
“No,” he spoke with absolute conviction. “Those days are gone.”
“I understand why you had to leave, but I thought you’d be back. Every month that passed, and then every year, I got angry. I needed my big brother.”
Until now, his family has tiptoed around the issue, afraid of angering him by calling out the fact that he’d abandoned his family. Almost relieved to get it out in the open, he didn’t bother making excuses.
“When Paul left me last year, my world crumbled. It came out of the blue, for me at least. I didn’t even know he wasn’t happy.” She tucked her arms, one under the other, and took a deep breath. “I was heartbroken.”
“I’m sorry.”
“If not for Jordan and Cheyenne, I don’t know what I would have done. They grounded me in a way no one else could.” She gazed out at her children. “During that time, I started to understand that pain you must’ve gone through after losing Carrie. I know how I felt, losing Paul, and imagine it was only a sliver of what you experienced.”
“I wish I would have been here for you.” Regrets slammed into him, and he struggled to accept his failures.
She looked at him intently, her lips in a straight line. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad. I forgave you a long time ago and knew you’d come home one day. I only wanted you to know that I understand, at least to a degree.”
“Have you heard from Paul, lately?” When Jamie’s husband moved out and left separation papers on their bed last year, she’d not said much about it. Nothing, actually. His mom had told him, and other than a brief mention of condolence, he and his sister never discussed it.
“He comes down once a month to spend a weekend with the kids.” She blinked rapidly before speaking again. “We go to court next month to finalize the divorce. It was supposed to be done in October, but the papers were messed up.”
“You don’t want the divorce, do you?”
A sad, sardonic smile settled across her mouth. “I always believed in true love, that it never dies. I guess I watched one too many fairytales as a little girl.”
After all these years, the big-brother need to protect surfaced. Hearing the hurt in Jamie’s voice, he wished he could track Paul down and give him some choice words, and maybe a good punch to the jaw. “I don’t know what your future holds, but promise me you won’t stop believing in love.”
“How could I not believe in it?” Her smile reached her eyes. “After all, you found Dani.”
Chapter 23
“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you so much.” Dani took the hangers of clothes from Gina and hung them on her office door.
“Not a problem.” Gina laughed and bounced Erik on her other arm. “Besides, it gave me a chance to show off how adorable the little guy is in his Christmas outfit.”
“He is precious. If I wasn’t covered in food and everything else, I’d give him a big hug.”
“I’ll give you a rain check for tonight.” Gina gave her a quick, sideways hug. “Greg’s waiting in the car, so I have to run. We have some last minute shopping before the Christmas Eve service.”
