by Rachel Hanna
She turns to me, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t want anybody but my Daddy,” she says as she walks past me into her bedroom and shuts the door.
Chapter 5
I don’t know why I feel so nervous. Maybe because I’ve had two cups of coffee this morning. Or maybe it’s because I got three hours of sleep after my talk with Harper last night.
She finally came out of her room after dinner and made a plate for herself before taking it back to her room and shutting the door. I gave her space. Maybe I was really giving myself space. I felt like my words would fail me, so I chose not to chance it.
“Ms. Sanders?” I hear a woman say from behind me. “I’ll show you to Mr. Woods’ room now.”
I follow her out of the office and down a long hallway to the last door on the left. The halls are quiet except for the occasional child passing by.
“You can wait here. He should be back any minute,” she says, pulling the door closed behind her.
I look around and notice mostly indications that he’s a history teacher. Globes. History posters. Historical books. I think back to my own school days. I was a good student, a nerd by today’s standards. I loved school and the escape it provided me from a volatile time in my life. Maybe Harper feels the same.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Ms. Sanders,” a male voice says from behind me as I stand reading a poster about Benjamin Franklin. Just the voice alone is sexy, smooth, husky. I can already imagine what Lisa was talking about.
I turn around and have to steady myself on the desk next to me. His face. Tanned. Beautiful white-toothed smile. Strong jawline with hints of stubble. Thick, wavy dark hair.
Dawson.
“Oh my God,” is all I manage to say. I wonder for a moment if he remembers me, but his face seems to say he does.
“Indy?” he says softly, as if he’s looking at a ghost.
We just stand there with about five feet between us, each of us staring at the other. It feels like we stand this way for an hour, but at the same time only seconds.
“Dawson.” I say his name because I haven’t been able to say it in many years.
“You’re Harper’s mother?”
“I am now.”
He clears his throat and steps toward me. “It’s so good to see you,” he says, pulling me into a tight embrace. He’s strong now, a man and not a boy. He still smells familiar for some reason. The hug is quick and then he pulls back and shuffles his feet for a moment. “Why don’t we sit down?”
I find a chair across from his small desk and we again stare at each other for a moment.
“Right. So, about Harper… how can I help?”
I’m taken aback by how quickly he jumps to the subject of Harper, but realize it only makes sense as that is the reason I’m here.
“Mrs. Calloway suggested I talk to her favorite teacher… which is you… but I didn’t know it was you… how did I never know your last name?”
He smiles. God, he’s gorgeous. Model material. I imagine every mother with a kid in his class comes to as many parent/teacher conferences as possible. Trying to not be obvious, I quickly glance at his left hand but see no wedding ring.
“We were kids, Indy. Last names didn’t matter much back then, I guess.”
“Of course.” We were kids. I highly doubt his few weeks around me made a lasting impression on his life.
“So, about Harper. She’s a good kid. She just really needs to be heard. Maybe you could try telling her some good memories you have of her father?”
My eyes grow wide and I look down. “I’ll have to think about that. I think I’ve blocked quite a bit out about that time in my life.”
He bites his lip. “About me too?”
I look at him for a long moment. “No. I remember some things very vividly.”
There’s a thick tension hanging between us for a moment. “I can’t believe you’re sitting right in front of me.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding since I saw him. “Me either. I thought I’d never see you again.”
He smiles and then nervously shuffles some papers on his desk. “Listen, I’d love to catch up with you some time. Maybe we could grab dinner?”
I want to say yes. It’s just catching up. But a part of me feels danger, and my sole focus needs to be Harper right now. Not opening old wounds or unlocking distant memories.
“Maybe.”
He furrows his brows but then smiles slightly. “Okay then. Well, if I can be of more help, or if I can talk to Harper with you… or for you… just let me know.”
He stands up as if he’s inviting me to leave. “It was nice to see you again, Dawson.”
“You too, Indy. Truly a nice surprise.”
He winks at me before he sits back down and starts looking at papers on his desk, and my heart thuds as I walk out the door.
I’m not a natural cook. I’ve never claimed to be a chef. But I’m pretty dang proud of my accomplishment this evening. I was able to follow a recipe I found online and cook a nice pot roast with vegetables and biscuits. So the biscuits came out of one of those cans that almost explodes and scares you. Who cares? They’re still edible biscuits, even if not homemade.
“Harper? Is that you?” I call as the front door opens. I hear a grunt that indicates it’s her and not some ax murderer, although I might check her hand for weapons just in case.
I walk out into the living room, and she’s sitting in the chair next to the TV. She doesn’t look so good.
“Are you okay?”
“No. I feel terrible,” she says softly.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, kneeling in front of her.
“My throat hurts and my nose is stuffy.”
For the first time, I feel that motherly instinct coming over me. I want to protect her. I don’t want her to be in pain.
“Come on, kid. Let’s head to the doctor,” I say, taking her hand and pulling her upright. “Wait. Do you have a doctor here?”
She looks at me like I’m a moron. “Um, yeah. Of course I do. Dr. Dothan.”
I grab my purse and my phone and we load up in my car in search of Dr. Dothan’s office.
The news isn’t great. Harper has strep and gets antibiotics. I’ve got instructions to give her warm soup and ice chips and basically whatever she wants for the next forty-eight hours while she stays home from school.
A part of me wants to care for her, but the other part of me is terrified that these will be the longest two days of my life.
Once we get home, I make her a can of chicken and rice soup with some ginger ale and put her to bed. When I look in there an hour later, she’s out like a light.
Deciding that I need some fresh air, I leave her a note in case she wakes up - which is unlikely - and I walk outside into the front yard. For some reason, stress makes me want to walk. Sometimes I’ve walked for miles before I realize what I’m doing.
This evening, I’m not walking far. Just to the end of the street. I want to peek across the main road and get a look at Tabitha’s house. I haven’t seen her since we were kids, and I don’t even know where she lives now. Maybe I’ll check into that soon.
When I get to the end of the street, I strain my eyes across the road and see her house. It still looks much the same since it was an all brick ranch, but the shutters are now black when they used to be cream colored. And the once small trees in her yard are now taller and more mature. Life goes on even when we aren’t watching.
Worried about going too far from Harper, I turn to head back toward the house. As if history loves to repeat itself, I find myself sneezing in the exact same spot as I did when I met Dawson all those years ago. Something about that spot, I guess. On instinct, I stop and wait to hear “bless you” and then laugh at myself for reminiscing as I start walking again.
“Do you need to see an allergy doctor or something?”
I turn to see Dawson leaning against the railing of the front porch of his old rental house. The sight of him standing
there takes my breath away for a moment.
“What are you doing there?”
“I live here, Indy.”
My mouth drops open without my approval. “What? Since when?”
“Moved in a few days ago.” He slowly strolls toward me with an impressive stride. A manly stride. It’s weird seeing him all grown up.
“Renting?”
He laughs. “No. I’m a big boy now. Bought it all by myself about six months ago. The rehab work just got finished last week.”
Now we’re face to face, standing at the edge of his yard. “But why?”
“Because this was the last home I ever really had. It was the last place I was truly happy.”
That statement makes me sad, yet happy at the same time because I was a part of his life then. “You didn’t seem so happy back then.”
I start walking and he follows, as we slowly walk toward my house. It occurs to me that he’s free now. He can walk out of his house and walk to mine without his mother punishing him.
We sit down on the railroad ties at the edge of my property. “I wasn’t very happy most of the time. Only when I was with you.” His voice is soft and vulnerable and immensely attractive.
“Did you know… that I moved back?” I ask hesitantly.
He chuckles. “No, Indy. I didn’t. This was all fate’s fault.”
“Fate?”
“Do you know that I started looking for you as soon as social media was invented?” he asks. I laugh, but then realize that he’s being serious.
“You did? Really?”
“Yep. For years I would check for your name, but nothing. I guess you got married?”
“I did. And I wasn’t really into social media. I prefer face to face interactions.”
“Well,” he says softly, his face inches from mine, “we’re certainly face to face now.”
I clear my throat nervously, visions of our one and only kiss in the fig tree zipping around my head. And for some inexplicable reason, I stand up quickly to escape the memories and his presence. All these years I’ve wondered about him. Missed him. And now he’s literally at my doorstep and I want to run.
“I… need to check on Harper. She’s been sick with strep…”
“Oh no. I’m sorry to hear that. Tell her I hope she feels better. And if you need anything… Well, you know where I am,” he says with a wink as he stands up.
“Right,” I say, turning because there’s a smile spreading across my face that I don’t want him to see. “Good night.”
“Will you be dancing tonight?”
“Very funny, Dawson…” I say in a singsongy voice.
I hear him laughing as I walk up the stairs to my house. When I peek around the corner of the porch post, he’s gone.
As Harper sleeps in the next room, I stare at my cell phone with dread. It’s dinner time in Seattle, so it’s definitely not too late to call, but I just don’t want to do it. Still, she’s my sister, and I need to tell her about Danny.
“Hello?” Her voice is chipper; nothing like the sister I grew up with.
“Hi, Amy. It’s Indy.”
Long pause. “Oh. Hey. What’s up?”
“I know you’re probably surprised to hear from me.”
“I am. But it’s good to hear your voice.” Didn’t expect that last comment.
“Good to hear yours too.” Definitely didn’t expect to hear that come from my mouth.
“I need to tell you some difficult news.”
“Okay…”
“Danny… passed away.”
“What?”
“A few weeks ago. I’m back in Peach Valley.”
“Why?” I can hear a bit of a crack in her voice.
“Because I bought our old house back.”
“You did what? But you hated that house. Why would you go back?”
“Because Danny had a daughter that we didn’t know about, and he left guardianship to me, Amy.”
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “Wow.”
“Yeah, that was exactly my reaction. And let’s just say that she isn’t happy that I’m her new mommy.”
Amy laughs. “Well, if she’s anything like Danny…”
“In some ways, she definitely is. But she’s so beautiful, Amy. Red hair and freckles, just like that doll you had when we were kids.” It’s nice to have this sisterly moment with her.
“Delilah? I loved that doll.”
“What happened to that doll anyway?” I ask, leaning back against my headboard and finally relaxing.
“Danny ripped her head off.”
I start laughing, and so does she, and we proceed to have a nice conversation about her kids and Mom and our good memories with Danny. Even though we didn’t have a service for our brother, I find that I’m able to bury some of my old wounds with him and my sister during one simple phone conversation.
“Well, I’d better check on Harper before I go to bed,” I say.
“Good night, Indy. And please call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Thanks. Good night.”
I check on Harper and then go into my old bedroom. It looks so different now. The awful folding closet doors have been replaced with two regular doors that open outward. I remember how they used to come off the tracks all the time and almost crush me as a kid.
I walk to the window and stare out into the black night sky. No one lives in the house next door right now, apparently, but I can see the lights on at Dawson’s house. I wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he grading papers? Talking to a woman he loves on the phone? Waiting for me to turn on a strobe light?
The thought makes me smile. I sure wish I had a strobe light right about now.
“Indy? You here?” I hear Dawson’s voice call from the front door. It’s Peach Valley, and locking the front door during the day just isn’t done.
“In the kitchen,” I call back. He walks in with a stack of papers and a smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey there.” He looks around the room with a goofy grin on his face as I wipe my wet hands on a dish towel. Harper is taking a nap since she missed school today. “What are you smiling about?”
“I just realized… I’ve never been in your house before.”
“Really? Wow. I thought you had but I guess your Mom…”
“Didn’t let me. Yeah. She was weird about stuff,” he says. “So, anyway, I brought Harper’s work she missed. Just so she has a chance to catch up this weekend if she feels better.” He lays the stack on the kitchen table and looks out the back window. “Ah. The infamous swing. I remember you talking about that being your quiet place as a kid.”
“Good memory,” I say as I join him in looking out the window. “Actually, that’s a new wooden swing from the Drager Brothers’ shop on Main.”
“Nice. Looks sturdy.”
I smile. “Wanna try it out with me?”
He nods and shoves his hands into his jean pockets as we walk out into the backyard. It’s early evening, and the air is starting to get cool, so I pull my cardigan tighter around me before sitting down.
“So this is where young Indy would hang out with her boom box, huh?”
“Yep. I remember that my friend Tabitha and I would sit here for hours listening to the weekly top forty countdown on the radio.”
“And making mixed tapes?”
“Of course. We were super cool like that.”
A long moment passes as we both just sit there, taking in the smoke tinged fall air, listening the crackling of the dead leaves at our feet as we push the swing ever forward.
“I came looking for you… the day you left.”
“You did?” he asks, turning slightly toward me.
“My parents announced their divorce, and it was horrible, of course. I needed you, but you were gone.”
I can see him start to reach for me, as if to touch my leg, but he stops himself. “Oh, Indy. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, especially since you were there for me so many time
s.”
“It was tough. Right after that, my grandfather died and my mother just broke down.”
“How is your mother?”
“She died awhile ago, after a long battle with cancer. She also had early dementia which just made things so much harder.”
“I’m so sorry. I know you loved her.”
“And your mother?”
“On husband number nine living in Vegas working at a doughnut shop.”
I start laughing even as I try to stifle it. “Seriously?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Yep. I haven’t talked to her in many years, though. Too much drama.”
“I can understand that. I don’t like drama either. And your sister?”
“First, Mom put her in a home for disabled people. Then she took her out and moved her to Vegas for awhile. But then she passed away a few years ago after a battle with pneumonia. I went to the funeral, but steered clear of my mother. Some things are better left alone.”
“I’m so sorry about your sister, Dawson.”
We swing for a few moments in silence. “So Harper is your brother’s daughter, right?”
“Yes.”
“You never talked about him much.”
“I wasn’t allowed to. My brother was a drug addict, and my mother taught me to keep the family secrets to myself. Although, I told you more than just about anybody other than Tabitha.”
He takes over the pushing as I pull my legs up and hug my knees. “You know I didn’t want to leave, right?”
I look at him. He has the beginnings of crow’s feet around his dark eyes, but it looks so good on him. “I know. How did it happen?”
“Well, after my stupendous choice of calling the fire department, my mother was livid. She wanted to be with her boyfriend at the time, so she shipped me off to some horrific place in the deep, dark forests of North Carolina. Let’s just say that prison would’ve been a safer place in my mind.”
“Oh, Dawson. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“Eighteen months she left me there. When I got out, I was messed up. By that time, she’d moved to Texas, so I was stuck in a totally new state that I knew nothing about. When I hit sixteen, I ran away and I’ve been on my own ever since.”