The Family He Didn't Expect

by Shirley Jump

  “Hey, thanks for letting Cody stay.”

  She spun at the sound of Dylan’s voice behind her. She tried to work a smile onto her face, but it wobbled. Her composure was on the brink of disappearing. She fumbled for her sunglasses in her purse and slipped them on. “Thank you for letting him help. He’s never really gotten to do any of that stuff before, and he looks like he’s enjoying the work.”

  “He’s a good kid.” Dylan eased the door shut and stepped out onto the porch with Abby. “I know you’ve had some problems with him lately, with cutting class and getting in trouble.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Not in so many words. I...” Dylan looked back over his shoulder at the door. “I see a lot of myself in him. I was like that at his age. Mad at the world, ready to run at the slightest hint of a problem.”

  In a few words, Dylan had summarized all the fears and worries that Abby had been keeping to herself. She shook her head, and the tears she’d been trying to hold back began to spill onto her lashes.

  Abby worked so hard to be strong, to handle everything herself. But right now, the stress, the worry, seemed too heavy, too much. Jake wanting a puppy, something normal kids all over the world asked for, had been something she couldn’t even entertain. She was barely holding herself together, never mind her kids and her life. When the school had called, it had crushed the very fragile hold on her stress. And now, the relief that Cody was okay, that he was actually doing something constructive—that had her teetering on the edge of a sob. “It’s been hard, you know? Being mom and dad at the same time. My friends don’t understand, because they’ve all got partners or grandparents around to pick up the slack, but it’s just me, and Cody is at that age where he needs a man who can be a good influence. Ty was a good role model to him, but then Virginia died—Ty started withdrawing and Cody went off the rails again and...”

  Dylan took her hand, and her babbling brook of words ceased. His touch was warm and strong, comforting. He gave her a little squeeze. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. He’s a good kid.”

  Abby raised her gaze to Dylan’s. For just a moment, she needed that reassurance. In a second, she told herself, she’d go back to being strong and independent. “You really think so? I mean, that he’ll be okay?”

  What was she doing? Asking a perfect stranger to predict her kid’s future? Maybe she was hormonal. Or maybe it was simply that Abby was exhausted, drained by the simple task of raising two boys on her own while trying to build a career at the marketing agency and keep everyone fed and clothed—and feeling like she wasn’t doing any of the above well.

  “I don’t have a crystal ball, but I do think he’s ready to find a better way to do things,” Dylan said. “Maybe spending some time helping out around here will give him a sense of accomplishment. I know I found my way by going into renovation and new construction work. There’s just something about seeing a room or a house or even a table take shape under your own two hands that makes you feel like you have control over your world.”

  She liked how Dylan described his work. And for Cody, she got a sense that that feeling of control and accomplishment was important. Her oldest had struggled so much with having a father who barely cared. The therapist she’d taken him to a few times had said that Cody really needed to find an outlet for his emotions, a way to express himself. Jake did that through his art, but Cody tended to bottle up his feelings. Both times he had been with Dylan, she had seen Cody come out of his shell and quite literally come out from under the security of his hoodie. A wave of reassurance swept over her, because for a moment, she wasn’t alone. “Cody needs that. He needs it a lot.”

  “Then let him hang here with me. Tomorrow’s Saturday, and if he wants to come over here bright and early, he can help me fix the broken cabinet in the kitchen and some busted tiles. Ty’s got a long list of needs for this place, and I want to do as much as I can to help him while I’m here.”

  “I noticed that things had gotten out of hand when I was looking around the kitchen. I was thinking maybe I could go to the store and get some supplies for the center this weekend. It seems like Ty is out of everything.”

  “Virginia did all the ordering for him. He’s kinda lost without her. I think everyone is.” Dylan released her hand, as if he’d just realized he’d been holding it.

  A little flutter of disappointment went through her, but she was determined not to show it. She knew better than to depend on anyone other than herself. Already she was starting to like this guy, to crave more time with him. She could see why Cody liked him so much. Dylan was confident and quiet, yet patient and warm. Not to mention, he cared—about Cody, about his aunt and uncle. That caring nature was something she could get used to—and even considering getting used to counting on someone meant she was treading on dangerous ground. “Uh...what kind of sub do you want?”

  “I’m not picky.” He grinned. “Surprise me.”

  “I’d hate to disappoint you.”

  “You won’t, Abby. Believe me.” He started into the building, then turned back and put a hand on her arm.

  This time, his touch sent a flutter through her veins. She lifted her gaze, surprised at the electricity, the intensity that a simple touch could bring. She had the strangest urge to press her lips to the slight dusting of stubble on his chin, to inhale his cologne.

  “I have an idea,” Dylan said.

  “Oh, yeah?” Her voice shook a little, damn it.

  “Why don’t I pick you and both the boys up tomorrow morning? That way, I can help you get the supplies for the kitchen, and you all can go with me to the home improvement store. I need to order some things that Ernie doesn’t carry, and I’m sure both boys will love being around power tools and forklifts.”

  For a second there, she’d thought Dylan was going to ask her out on a date. It took a moment for her brain to process what he was saying. That it wasn’t a date at all. Disappointment sank in her gut, which was completely insane. She didn’t have time or room in her life for another person with testosterone. “Sure. If you don’t mind. The boys would love that.”

  “Great.” He grinned. “Then it’s a date?”

  No, it’s not. She worked a smile onto her face. “Of course.”

  But as Abby climbed into her car and headed away from the community center, she did her best to ignore her disappointment. She ignored it. The last thing she wanted to do was fall for another man with a charming smile and all the right words. Because in the end, the words were empty and the ones who got hurt were the boys she was trying so hard to protect.

  She flicked a gaze at the rearview mirror and saw Dylan, talking to Cody by their newly repaired window. Her heart cracked a little, and she whispered a silent prayer that this time she was wrong about that man and his smile.

  Chapter Four

  Dylan borrowed Ty’s extended cab pickup truck early the next morning. The Ford rattled and shook its way down the road, yet another thing on its last legs. Dylan made a mental note to take a look under the hood later this afternoon. He was no mechanic, but he knew his way around basic engine maintenance.

  He pulled into Abby’s driveway. She lived in a small bungalow on Peach Street, a cul-de-sac filled with kids’ bicycles, swing sets and a basketball hoop at the end of the curve. Her house was older, maybe built in the fifties, but it was neat and tidy, with a row of red geraniums along the front. A wooden swing hung from eyehooks on the porch and swung gently in the breeze.

  He half expected a white picket fence and a golden retriever to come running out the door. Abby lived in the kind of house he’d expect to see in some sitcom. The kind of home he’d avoided all his life. It smacked of commitment, domesticity and—

  Shackles. Expectations.

  Jake poked his head up from the porch. He had a gold-colored dog in his arms, as if providing the final key to Dylan’s view of the perfect family life. He waved
like crazy at Dylan, keeping the puppy balanced in one hand. Abby came out onto the porch, bent down and scolded her youngest son, who trudged next door, dropped the puppy into an outdoor playpen, then headed back, his eyes downcast and his face full of pout.

  The front door opened again, and Cody emerged, looking half asleep and angry to be woken up so early on a weekend. At the door, Abby touched Jake’s shoulder, and the little boy turned around. Abby bent down and zipped the front of Jake’s spring jacket. She placed a hand on her son’s chest and gave him a smile. He smiled back, then leaned forward on his toes and wrapped his arms around his mother.

  Something in Dylan’s heart squeezed. The whole scene—Abby and her sons in the shade of the front porch, a dark-haired trio framed by the pale yellow house—smacked of domesticity. Dylan should have felt more cynical. Jaded.

  Instead he felt...

  Envy.

  Crazy thoughts. He lived his life like a tumbleweed. He wasn’t the kind to get wrapped up in geraniums and porch swings. Dylan jerked his attention back to the present, rolled down the passenger-side window and leaned across the cab. “Good morning, everyone. You all set?”

  “Yup.” Jake beamed, his frown gone. “Mommy says we’re gonna see a fork truck.”

  Dylan chuckled. “A forklift, and yes, we’ll see at least one of those today.”

  Abby gave Jake a nudge. “Boys, why don’t you get in the truck so we don’t keep Dylan waiting?”

  At his mother’s reminder, Cody opened the back door for his little brother, installed a booster seat, and then the boys climbed in back. “Hi, Dylan,” Jake said, leaning over the seat and halfway into the front. “I can’t wait to build stuff today. Can we build a doghouse someday? In case I get a puppy?”

  Abby shot him a glance and shook her head.

  “Uh, maybe,” he said, then directed his attention to the teenager. “Hey, Cody.”

  Cody gave Dylan a half nod. “Hey.”

  Well, at least he hadn’t turned into a zombie. For a second there, Dylan wasn’t sure. And he might not be peppy, but Cody’s usual attitude seemed to be at a minimum. All good signs for the day ahead.

  Abby climbed into the passenger’s seat. She’d dressed in jeans, a worn gray T-shirt and a blue hooded sweatshirt that was unzipped. Her hair was in a ponytail that swung along her neck and her makeup was light. She looked beautiful. Sweet.

  Damn. He was turning into a walking poem. Had to be the early morning and lack of caffeine. He’d been running late and he’d headed out of the B&B without his usual cup of joe. Yeah, that was it.

  “Good morning,” Abby said.

  “Good morning.” He shot her a grin. “I see you’re ready to work.”

  “I have almost no handyman skills, but I do have a good attitude.”

  “That’s half the battle. The rest can be taught.” He glanced in the rearview mirror at Cody. The teenager was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face. Apparently the good attitude hadn’t taken root in all members of the Cooper family.

  “Hey, Jake, Cody, buckle up. Okay?”

  Cody rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Jake sat back in the seat, dragged his seatbelt across his lap, clicked it into place, then crossed his arms in his lap, his face eager.

  A big-box grocery store and a home improvement store were located just outside of Stone Gap, about twenty minutes away. Jake started chattering before the truck even left the driveway. “What are we gonna build, Dylan? Do I get to use a hammer?”

  He chuckled. “Maybe. First we have to pick up the supplies. Then we’ll decide what we want to fix first.”

  “I don’t know how to hammer stuff,” Jake said.

  “That’s okay. I’ll teach you.” Dylan glanced over at Abby. She had a slight smile on her face, and when she caught him looking, she averted her gaze. “I can teach your mom, too.”

  She laughed. “I might be a hopeless case. Give me a marketing presentation to write, and I’m in my element. But fixing a leaky toilet or hanging a picture... Let’s just say I’ve used a lot of superglue and duct tape to repair stuff in my house.”

  “Hey, those are valid home-repair tools.” He shot her a grin. “Seriously, though, if you need help with something at your house, I’d be glad to step in. Fixing houses is pretty much how I make a living.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He wondered if she was being polite or if she really meant that. And why he cared when he wasn’t planning on staying in Stone Gap. He reminded himself that Abby was one of those women who settled down, planted geraniums. And he was the kind of guy who moved on before the geraniums bloomed.

  Jake kept up his chatter, asking about hammers and nails and doors and pretty much anything he could think to ask about. The conversation went in loopy circles, detouring from hammers to dogs then back again to nails. Dylan glanced at Abby, who clearly was used to Jake’s roundabout style.

  “Is this pretty much how it always is with a kid?” he asked her, keeping his voice low.

  She chuckled. “Yup. Jake’s mind moves a million miles a minute, and he’s one of the most creative kids I’ve ever met. You’ll get used to it.”

  Dylan wanted to contradict her, but figured if he announced he wasn’t staying long, he’d spoil the light mood in the truck and also indicate that he cared more than he did. Abby was a friend, and her kids were just...help for the day. Albeit, chatty, inexperienced help.

  Once they parked at the home improvement store, Jake and Cody got out of the truck and followed along behind Dylan and Abby. Dylan grabbed a bright orange cart, then headed down the aisles. Jake kept on talking as Dylan shopped, picking up Sheetrock, some plywood, a box of replacement tiles for the bathrooms and a stack of other supplies. “Well, I think we’ve about emptied the store,” Dylan said. “Let me just drop off this order for the countertop at the front desk and we can check out.”

  Cody hadn’t said two words the entire time. He’d barely shown any interest in anything Dylan bought, eyes glued to his phone. Abby tried to engage her teenage son several times but didn’t receive much more than grunts in return.

  “Cody, why don’t you help me load the truck while your mom and Jake grab us some hot dogs?” Dylan turned to Abby and handed her some money. “If you don’t mind. There’s a vendor right outside the store.”

  “Not at all.” She took Jake’s hand. “Come on, Jakester, let’s get some hot dogs.”

  “I love hot dogs!” Jake looked up at his older brother. “Do you love them, Cody?”

  Cody shrugged. “They’re okay.”

  “I’ll get you one. Okay?” Jake gave his brother a wide grin, which Cody half returned, then Jake headed outside with his mother.

  Dylan placed his order, paid for his purchase and walked to the truck with Cody. “I know you probably don’t want to be here—”

  “Are you really going to do it?” Cody spun toward him.

  “Do what?”

  “Teach Jake how to fix stuff? You’re not going to just ditch him at home or something, are you?”

  “No, of course not. Why would I...?” Dylan’s voice trailed off as he put the pieces together. The absentee father, the boys who had been raised by a single mom. The stoic, seemingly emotionless teenage boy, making sure his little brother wasn’t disappointed again. Dylan saw so much of Sam and himself in these two boys—or at least him and his brother when they were younger and got along. He could see the flicker of hope in Cody’s face, gone almost as fast as it appeared.

  “I meant what I said, Cody.” He met the teenager’s gaze and held it. “I’m going to teach both of you how to fix things. And your mom, if she wants to learn, too.”

  Cody considered that, then slid the plywood into the bed of the truck. “Okay. Good.”

  They put the rest of the supplies in the truck, finishing up just as Jake and A
bby returned with the hot dogs. She glanced at her oldest son, then at Dylan. Cody hadn’t said much, but his mood had considerably brightened and Dylan could see the relief in Abby’s face.

  “Hey, thanks for grabbing lunch,” Dylan said.

  “You’re welcome. Though your arteries might argue with the menu choice.” She handed him one of the hot dogs. “Isn’t stopping me from having one, though. I swear, it’s been years since I ate a hot dog. I’m not big on junk food, as my boys will attest.”

  He shifted closer to her. “Life is short, Abby. You should have some really good junk food once in a while. It makes you appreciate the healthy stuff later.”

  She laughed. “I don’t know if I agree with that logic. But I’ll give it a try.”

  Cody took his lunch and climbed into the truck cab. Jake clambered up beside his big brother and started talking a mile a minute about the hot dog vendor, the bird he saw in the parking lot, the dollop of mustard on his shirt.

  Abby watched her sons with a bittersweet look in her eyes. “Those two boys are like night and day. I swear, Jake was born happy and talkative. Cody was always my quiet one. The good kid when he was a baby—a good sleeper, good eater. Jake had enough energy for ten kids—always squirming, never wanted to sleep. Now Cody’s become...” She sighed. “Maybe it’s just teenage stuff.”

  Dylan gave the cart a shove and sent it sailing into the corral. It nestled with the others with a soft clank. “They’re both good kids, Abby.”

  “Thanks.” A shy smile filled her face, and he could tell, this was the place where she was most easily touched. When it came to her kids, Abby allowed that wall to wobble ever so slightly. He liked that.

  He wasn’t going to slip into their lives and become Ward Cleaver, but he could enjoy a Saturday morning in her company and make it fun for her kids. Dylan took her trash and tossed it in a nearby can. “Let’s get back to the center. I can drop you off at home on the way, if you want, then bring the boys home when we’re done working. You don’t have to help.”