Her Second Chance Family (Contemporary Romance)

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Her Second Chance Family (Contemporary Romance) Page 24

by Holly Jacobs


  Clinton blushed, which made Willow and Bea collapse in laughter. He looked annoyed. “I just came to say that Ava’s here and she’s got some other woman with her.”

  Merrill was here?

  Audrey ran down the stairs and saw both women. “Look what the cat dragged in,” Ava said.

  Merrill hadn’t changed at all.

  Well, maybe she had. She looked more...polished. As if the decade since they finished school had added a sheen to her appearance.

  Some people might say that sort of slickness was a good thing, but Audrey wasn’t so sure.

  “Hi, Audrey,” Merrill said, and opened her arms.

  That was all the invitation Audrey needed. She closed the distance between herself and her two oldest friends and hugged them both.

  “Girls,” Clinton said with disgust in his voice.

  When they separated, Audrey introduced them. “Merrill, this is Clinton, Bea and Willow. My family. Guys, this is Merrill.”

  “We figured,” Willow said. Then, as if she’d remembered her manners all of a sudden, she added, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Maggie May came in through the kitchen. “I’ve got a cake on the counter and...” That was all the kids needed to hear.

  “Have fun,” Clinton and Bea called to Audrey as they bolted for the kitchen.

  Willow paused and said, “We’ve got everything handled here. Go out and have a good time tonight.”

  Audrey introduced her neighbor. “Maggie, this is Merrill and Ava.”

  “Ava and I met in your yard when she was on her way in with doughnuts. And, Merrill, it’s nice to meet you. You’re here visiting from Texas?”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Merrill said, then gave a little shake of her head, sending her long blond hair bouncing. “And I’m more than visiting. I’m staying in Erie for an extended period.”

  “So the old gang is back together.” Willow grinned. “I’m not sure Erie is ready for that.” Laughing, she walked toward the kitchen, following the cake’s siren call.

  “I’ve got things covered, so you don’t hurry home tonight,” Maggie told her. “Abe’s coming over soon with a movie.”

  “Abe?” Audrey teased.

  “Don’t get sassy,” Maggie said with a sniff. The stern effect was ruined by her totally happy smile.

  “Night, Maggie,” Audrey called before she shut the door behind her and walked Ava and Merrill toward her car.

  “So here we are,” Ava said. “Together again.”

  For one moment, Audrey remembered getting into the car after graduation. Instead of the elation she’d felt then, she felt...she wasn’t sure what it was. Guilt? No, maybe sorrow, because things could never go back to the way they were.

  So much had happened to her since then, she reflected. She was grateful for the kids. That would never change.

  “I’ve missed you both,” Audrey said as she got in the backseat. She wanted to ask if Jude would be at the reunion, but didn’t know how to broach the topic with Merrill.

  But their three-way ESP kicked in and Merrill said, “I don’t know if Jude will be there tonight. I haven’t talked to him since that summer. I went to Texas and he went to Tufts. We haven’t kept in touch.” She frowned, but then offered them a small smile. “I really didn’t plan on coming tonight. Ava convinced me.”

  “How?”

  “She said she was showing up at my place at five-thirty and dragging me into the car in whatever I happened to be wearing. I opted to not be wearing my normal outfit...yoga pants and a T-shirt.”

  “That was wise,” Audrey said. “Have you noticed that Ava’s a lot bossier than she was when we were in school?”

  “Just a bit,” Merrill agreed.

  “You both realize that I’m sitting right here, don’t you?” Ava protested.

  “Yes,” they replied in unison.

  “So you’re thinking about staying in town?” Audrey asked.

  “There’s no thinking. It’s a done deal. I bought a place on East Thirty-seventh Street.”

  “How long have you been here?” Audrey was curious.

  “A month.”

  Ava shot Audrey a look and Audrey knew that something was wrong. “Merrill, what is it?”

  “I’m getting a divorce,” Merrill admitted.

  “I’m so sorry.” Audrey had never met Merrill’s husband, and she didn’t think Ava had, either. Merrill always seemed determined to keep her past separate from her present. And Ava and Audrey were clearly a part of the past.

  “On the bright side,” Merrill continued, “I got a job doing the local news. I start next week.”

  “Well, I’m glad you decided to come tonight. I can’t imagine turning on the television and seeing you in front of the camera, after all this time,” Audrey said.

  “And I have a son,” Merrill blurted out.

  Ava hit the brakes so hard that they screeched. She pulled over and threw it in Park, then turned to stare at Merrill. “What?”

  Audrey was just as shocked.

  “A son,” Merrill told them. “J.T. is his name. He’s nine.”

  Audrey did the math, and noted Ava’s look, she’d obviously done it, as well. “He’s Jude’s?” Audrey whispered.

  “He’s mine!” Merrill said fiercely, her emphasis on the word mine saying what she wasn’t willing to.

  “I see,” Ava said.

  The three of them sat quietly as they drove to the school.

  For the first hour of the reunion, they sat, huddled together, and caught up, at least, they mostly did.

  There were so many things each of them needed to say, but it wouldn’t be here tonight. But Audrey was okay with that. She knew that now they’d find the time to do so.

  They joined the reunion and were immediately surrounded by old classmates, but just like old times the three of them stuck together.

  Audrey listened to Merrill brag about J.T., and she, in return, bragged about her kids. And Ava captivated them both with talk of her travel.

  “I’ve met someone,” Audrey found herself telling them. “I mean, more than met. We’re in...” Just then, Sawyer walked into the gym. As he started to scan the room, her heart caught in her throat. How could she have ever thought she could walk away from him? It didn’t seem possible to imagine her life without him in it.

  “I’ll be back in a bit,” she told Ava and Merrill.

  “Take your time,” Ava said. “We’re going to mingle.”

  As she started to walk toward Sawyer, she heard Merrill say, “She’s got it bad, doesn’t she?”

  And Audrey realized that she did. “Dance with me?” he asked. Sawyer was dressed in a suit, and he held out his hand.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Ava invited me,” he said with a smile. “Don’t get jealous, but technically, I’m her plus one.”

  “I don’t understand. Not that I’m not happy to see you, but...”

  Sawyer took her hand in his and moved toward the dance floor. “I know that the last time you were at this school ended in a night full of sad memories. I wanted to be sure that, this time, you remembered something happier. I thought a romantic dance with the man who loves you might do the trick.”

  He swept her onto the dance floor, gave a nod at the DJ and the music changed to a slow, sweet love song. For a minute, Audrey forgot all about the reunion and her friends...there was only her and Sawyer.

  Only this moment.

  This perfect moment.

  She looked across the room and saw Merrill standing alone in the corner. Her friend seemed...wounded. Audrey knew she was going to have to find a way to reach her. At least she had Ava back in town to help.

  She glanced around the room and spotted Ava talking
to a big man. A huge man. He looked familiar enough that Audrey could believe he was a classmate, but she couldn’t place him.

  Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed Ava. Not just some greeting one old classmate might give another, but a full-on, lip-to-lip, more-PDA-than-she’d-ever-seen-Ava-display kiss.

  She was sure they’d be discussing that kiss later, but for right now, she simply continued holding Sawyer.

  As the song ended, Sawyer didn’t release her, but rather steered her into a quiet corner.

  “Audrey, I wanted to come here tonight... I want to tell you that I love you. I’ve never felt anything like this before. But more than that, I love your kids. I love you all. You’re a package deal, I get that. And I know that other men haven’t been able to deal with it, but I want it all...lock, stock and barrel.

  “I want to be part of your inner circle. I want to help with the Greenhouse. I want to compost and have an organic garden.”

  She started to reply, but he jumped in, “Heck, Audrey, I want to eat quinoa. Seriously, if you told me, in order to have you, I had to eat quinoa every day, I’d buy a cookbook and I...”

  “You had me at ‘you love us all,’” she said, and kissed him. “For the record, I’ll say I love you, too...again. And I’m pretty sure I’m not speaking out of turn when I said the kids adore you, as well.”

  “I know the kids are foster kids, but I’d like to start whatever we need to do to adopt them and make it official. We’ll make a day of it. A marriage, adoptions... I like the idea of all of us being a family.”

  It took her a moment to absorb what he’d just said. “Is this a proposal?”

  “Don’t tell the kids what a mess I’ve made of it. Yes, it’s a proposal.” He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a jeweler’s box. He opened it. There was a diamond ring in it. “I wanted something small enough not to get in your way at work, but big enough to remind you that I love you. If it’s not right, we can go find something...”

  “Yes.” She kissed him, then held her finger out and he placed the ring on it. “It’s perfect.”

  Audrey moved in close, her head pressed over Sawyer’s heart. This was where she belonged. She knew it with the same certainty she’d felt when she’d brought Clinton, Bea and Willow home.

  “This is the memory I’ll have now...thank you,” she said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Audrey Smith had come home.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from YESTERDAY’S GONE by Janice Kay Johnson.

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  Yesterday's Gone

  by Janice Kay Johnson

  CHAPTER ONE

  DETECTIVE SETH CHANDLER tugged his tie loose and undid the top button of his white shirt as he settled into his chair. Testifying in court that morning had demanded his best getup.

  Unfortunately, the detective bull pen was upstairs in the aging building that housed the county sheriff’s department. In winter, they appreciated the scientific fact that heat rises. A heat wave right before the Fourth of July weekend meant today they sweated, as they would off and on all summer. A couple of window air-conditioning units rattled away inadequately. Doing the job meant tuning out physical discomfort along with the noise of too many conversations around him.

  No surprise to find that, in his absence, over a hundred new emails had arrived. He was being inundated with “tips” right now. That’s the way it was when you got word out there. Most were worthless, but once in a while, he found wheat among the chaff.

  Within moments, he was engrossed. He skimmed, deleted, opened the next.

  I saw this feature online about missing kids and how you can draw pictures so everyone can see what they look like once they grow up. One of them looks EXACTLY like this girl I knew in high school.

  His phone rang. He gave it an irritated glance and saw the call was internal, which meant he couldn’t ignore it.

  Attention still on the open email, he snatched up the phone. “Chandler.”

  I bet she is the one you’re looking for. Her name wasn’t Hope, but I’m totally positive. Except you’ve got her hair wrong in the picture, and her nose, too.

  “A Mrs. Lawson is here to see you,” said the desk sergeant. Seth heard a murmur in the background. “Karen Lawson,” the sergeant amended.

  “Buzz her in.”

  Most police departments across the nation had grown cautious. Locked doors kept visitors from barging in to confront an officer.

  Seth rose to his feet a minute later when the door opened and a slender, middle-aged woman, who reminded him a little too much of his mother, appeared. It wasn’t the general physical similarities that had him making the comparison, but rather the sorrow that clung inescapably to both women.

  Clutching her purse, Mrs. Lawson cast a shy look at the men and women too engrossed in phone calls and computers to so much as notice her presence. She wound her way between desks, her expression apologetic when she reached him, even though this wasn’t her first visit and wouldn’t be her last. He made a real effort to call and let the Lawsons know what he was doing, but she’d obviously read advice to families of missing children that told her to be persistent. Never let them give up, the advocates often advised.

  Ironic, in this instance, when he was the one who had taken the initiative to revisit a case so cold, he’d had to defrost it.

  She rushed into speech. “I know I shouldn’t be bothering you, Detective, but Kirk asked last night if I’d heard from you and since I happened to be downtown I thought you might not mind...”

  He interrupted. “Of course I don’t mind. Please, sit down.”

  She perched on the straight-backed chair next to his desk, her blue eyes fixed anxiously on him. Damn it, he was disturbed every time he saw her by the resemblance the age-progressed drawing of her long-missing daughter had to her. There was a reason for that, of course; part of the art of age progression was using photographs of the parents as children and adults. And there was no denying that daughters did sometimes grow up to look like their mothers.

  “I’m getting a lot of calls and emails,” he said gently, “but nothing has jumped out at me yet. I can tell you that the photo of Hope at six years old and the artist’s best guess at what she’d look like now have been getting wide currency. It’s prompted some newspapers to run features on the fate of missing children like her, but I’m especially hopeful because those pictures are appearing everywhere on the internet. People are intrigued.” It was the pretty young white woman syndrome, of course, but he’d use anything that worked. “Given her age now—” assuming Hope Lawson had lived to grow up, of course, which they both knew to be unlikely in the extreme “—odds are she and her friends spend a lot of time on social media sites. If she’s alive, I’m optimistic that, sooner or later, someone will recognize her.”

  God, he hoped he wasn’t giving this woman false hope. He suppressed his natural wince at his choice of word, as he too often had to these days. What a name for a kid who’d been abducted!

  “Thank you,” she murmured, and he knew damn well she hadn’t even heard the “if she’s alive” part. He’d been
deluding himself that they both knew her daughter was likely dead.

  From the beginning, he’d made it clear that he was fighting the odds here. Hope Lawson had vanished without a trace twenty-three years ago. The 99.9 percent likelihood: she was dead. He’d set out to take advantage of improved police and medical examiner cooperation to find a match with an unclaimed body. Elizabeth Smart and Jaycee Dugard were the rarities, not the norm. But despite all his warnings, Karen Lawson wanted to believe that by some miracle he’d bring her daughter home alive and well.

  A sheriff’s department in a rural county like this one didn’t have anything like a cold case squad. He was allowed to indulge his interest as time allowed, however. He’d found closure for a few people, mostly by giving them a chance to put a headstone on a loved one’s grave. Not a happy ending, but better than suffering through a lifetime of wondering, as Karen and Kirk Lawson had.

  Her gaze left him to fall on his bulletin board, where he’d tacked copies of the last school picture taken of little Hope Lawson and of the recent rendering. Other photos shared the space: a sweetly pretty wife and mother who had either suffered a terrible fate or fled from her husband and preschool-age children two years before; a toddler who’d disappeared from a picnic ground the previous summer; an elderly man with the beginnings of dementia who had gone for a walk and never come home.

  If only to himself, Seth would admit that his gaze was most often drawn to Hope Lawson’s face. As a child, huge blue eyes had dominated a thin face with high, sharp cheekbones. A few pale freckles dusted a small nose. Moonlight-pale bangs cut straight across her forehead. Her grin revealed a missing tooth.

  The artist had seen the promise of beauty in her, or something very like. The cheekbones were distinctive. More than anything, they gave him hope that she would be recognized.

  Hope. Damn.

  “Eve mentioned that she hasn’t seen you recently,” Mrs. Lawson remarked.

  Another wince he didn’t let show. The Lawsons’ adopted daughter was responsible for his current cold case project. They’d been on several dates when she told him something of her family’s history. Intrigued, he’d done his research, gone to talk to her parents and made the decision to do his damnedest to find out what had happened to the little girl who disappeared sometime between getting out of the community pool after a summer swimming lesson and her mother arriving to pick her up.

 

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