Love Comes Home: A Collection of Second Chance Short Stories

by Kristi Rose

  “Gotcha.” Andee winked. “You like what you like. What about you, Grady?”

  “I’ll have what she’s having,” he said and waited for Andee to leave before starting the conversation.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about the other night and that summer we spent together.” He turned his chair to face hers.

  “I have too, actually.” She didn’t look at him, instead adding creamer to her coffee and stirring it slowly.

  “I haven’t been very honest with you, then or now.”

  That caught her attention and she looked at him, her hand no longer stirring. “Go on.”

  Grady looked around, wondering what the odds of keeping this conversation private were. He was going to do his best. “Where do I start?”

  “You can start with her.” Evie nodded toward the front door and Grady turned to see Melinda Bane come in.

  “Hey y’all,” she said. “Just coming to check out the competition.”

  “Oh my word, Grady Duke. We meet again and so soon,” Melinda said and came to stand in front of him. “Thanks for dinner the other night,” she added with an exaggerated wink for flair.

  “Thanks for bringing wings. Wish you would have stayed, Evie.” he said.

  “Yeah, it was nice catching up. We talked about the diner and Grady’s job and—”

  “Devouring men,” Andee said in a low voice as she walked by.

  “Excuse me,” Evie said and pushed away from the counter.

  “Oh, Evie. You should have stayed with us the other night. We had a good time.” Melinda’s effort to be bubbly and chatty was over the top.

  He watched Evie walk toward the restrooms and saw the opportunity for what it was, a private moment.

  “Listen, Melinda. It’s good seeing you. But you’ll have to excuse me for a minute.” He stepped around her and caught up with Evie as she vanished into the long hallway leading to the restrooms. After opening a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY, he pulled her into what looked like a storage closet and closed the door behind him.

  “What in the world—”

  “Hold on, I’ll find a switch” It took a few pats along the wall before his fingers brushed the light plate and he switched on a light.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m finishing a conversation that we should have had years ago.”

  Evie shifted on her feet and moved to lean against a wall. “Well,” she said with a flick of her hand. “Go ahead.”

  “It’s true that I wanted out of this town more than anything—”

  “I know this part.”

  “Let me talk, please.” He paused and waited until she pressed her lips together. She made like she was locking her lips with a key and then tossed it over her shoulder.

  He laughed. “Thank you. As I was saying, getting out was all I had thought about since I was twelve and heard my dad complain about how he would live and die in Lakeland. I didn’t want that to be me. I didn’t want to get serious about a girl because I didn’t want anything to get in my way. And then you came along.” He stood before her, one hand resting against the wall over her shoulder.

  “At first I thought we’d just be like all the others. A little flirting, some kissing, and maybe a couple of dates but the days went into weeks and the weeks became months and I couldn’t get enough. Then that night when we went down to the lake, school was getting ready to start up and I kept telling myself I needed to cut you out. I had one chance at college with no student loans and needed to focus on my senior year. That was my excuse. That was my plan for that night.”

  “You took me down there to dump me?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. But then we got to laughing and you bumped my shoulder with yours and I got lost. I told myself I’d get one more kiss and then say goodbye but one thing led to another—”

  “I actually think I’m mad at you more for taking my virginity knowing you wanted to dump me.”

  “You took mine.”

  “What?” Her mouth fell open and she shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

  “You gave me your virginity and I gave you mine in return,” he said. “I never thought we’d go that far, but once it started, to stop it would have been torture and by then I had sold myself on the belief that it was the one little keepsake I would take with me when I left. It was and still is one of the best moments of my life.”

  “How is that even possible that you were a virgin? You were such a man-whore.”

  “I let everyone believe I was a man-whore. A few of the guys started speculating and spreading rumors and I let them. It worked to keep things at a distance with girls.”

  “And Melinda the other night?”

  “I saw her when I was getting groceries. She came over to hit on me but after you left, she clued in quickly that I only had eyes for you. She said I needed to be honest with you now. That I shouldn’t waste time. Whadya say, Evie, you think there might be something left from the old days? An ember? Spark?”

  “Kiss me,” she said. “Kiss me now.”

  And he did. He kissed her slowly, letting his lips linger on hers, breathing in the taste of her. Together they found their something old and embraced the something new.

  “It’s just like it was when I was a kid. I can’t get enough of you.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. “I’d like to take you out. Get to know you better.” He winked.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to make you buy me dinner and a movie first.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and cupped the back of his head as she’d done that night on the bank of the lake.

  “Oh, I had planned on it. Dinners, movies, and so much more. I want to make it up to you, Evie. Do it right this time.”

  “Well, we’re off to a bad start. We’re in a storage closet.”

  “Nah, this is right where we need to be—”

  The door to the storage room swung open and Lorelei stood in the entryway, mouth agape, Melinda behind her, smiling.

  “Care to explain what’s going on here?” Lorelei said.

  “We’re having our seven minutes in heaven, Lorelei. I believe I owe it to Evie. So if you don’t mind,” Grady said.

  “Oh, I don’t mind at all. Just let me grab this bag of flour and we’ll be on our way. Oh, and when you two are ready to come out, just pound on the door. It still sticks. We close at one.” She flicked on a flashlight, switched off the overhead light, and closed the door with a quiet click.

  “Mood lighting,” Evie said, grateful the dim light would hide her blush.

  “I don’t need anything to help with the mood. All I need is you.” Grady dipped his head and teased her lips with his. “What are the odds I can convince you to call into work and stay in here till noon?”

  “Pretty good, if you know what you’re doing with those hands and that mouth.”

  “Excellent. I think I remember a few of your sweet spots.” He slid his hand under her top.

  Evie wondered what the word of the day would be to describe the second chance and good fortune they’d been given. Maybe it was all the words combined or maybe it came down to being open and willing.

  Either way, she was thankful.

  Word of the Day: Serendipitous: Good; beneficial; favorable

  EPILOGUE - One Year Later

  “Here’s your bacon and Gouda omelet, Evie, and for you, Grady, the vegetable frittata.” Andee placed the plates in front of them and stood there, grinning like a crazy person.

  “What’s up with you today?” Evie asked, staring at her.

  “Nothing. I’m just very happy. Lorelei is over the morning sickness and finally more bearable to be around and you two...” She shot a look to Grady. “Well, you two are just so stinking cute.”

  “Why don’t you go fill some cups with coffee, Andee,” Grady suggested.

  “Aw, do I have to?” She stared at Grady briefly before giving in. “Fine.” She snatched up the coffee
carafe and shuffled off.

  “What’s up with her?” Evie asked and went through the motions of sprinkling copious amounts of pepper on her eggs.

  “She’s probably wondering why you aren’t paying attention to what you’re doing,” Grady said.

  “I don’t have to pay attention. I always do the same things. First, I put pepper on my eggs and then I spread the little butter pats on my toast... Oh my word. That’s not butter.”

  Evie stared at the large sapphire ring sitting upright in a butter pat shaped like a heart.

  “Yes, the intention is for it to be an engagement ring. I’m hoping for a yes here. A hell yes would be even better.”

  “You want to marry me?” It wasn’t that she doubted his love for her, but the timing. Her life had become definitely more difficult with her momma’s worsening medical state. He would be making a permanent commitment to her at a time that life wasn’t all unicorns and butterflies.

  Grady laughed. “Well, it’s not from Andee or Lorelei.” He pulled her chair around to face him and dropped to one knee before her.

  “Evie Jane Barker, will you marry me? You know you’re my world and I can’t imagine a day without you in it. I want to be there for you. Good times or bad. If you’ll let me I’ll help you carry this weight. Please say yes. I’ll even throw out my musket lamp.”

  “Say yes,” Andee called from across the restaurant. Lorelei stood in the door of the kitchen and wiped her eyes.

  “Of course I’ll say yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you forever,” Evie said and threw her arms around his neck.

  It had forever been him.

  ~THE END~

  Reason to Stay

  A Coming Home Short Story

  Kristi Rose

  Vintage Housewife Books

  Farmington, Mo

  Copyright © 2015 by Kristi Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Vintage Housewife Books

  PO Box 841

  Farmington, Mo. 63640

  www.kristirose.net

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com

  Cover Design by Paper and Sage Designs

  Edited by Paige Christian

  Reason to Stay/ Kristi Rose. -- 1st ed.

  Dedicated to my loves.

  Do not brood over your past mistakes and failures as this will only fill your mind with grief, regret and depression. Do not repeat them in the future..

  ― Swami Sivananda

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE 129

  CHAPTER TWO 147

  CHAPTER THREE 163

  CHAPTER FOUR 175

  CHAPTER FIVE 184

  CHAPTER SIX-6 MONTHS LATER 198

  Sister tries to keep it real, clothes are washed and house is cleaned but hearts are broken and heads hang low~ "WHISKY AND WATER."

  CHAPTER ONE

  Home.

  Being here was nothing like she’d feared.

  What had she expected? She wasn’t sure. Would it be awkward? Yes. Did she feel like a stranger? Absolutely. Was there a heavy weight of guilt pressing down on her? Without a doubt.

  She’d never imagined she’d want to be here; she’d worked so hard to get out and stay away. But being near Evie filled her with a sense of familiarity that actually was good and comfortable. Trouble was, she didn’t know if she’d be welcomed by anyone other than her sister.

  She should have come back before today. Even for a short visit.

  She discarded that idea as quickly as she’d had it. Coming home at any point until now would have been stupid. Toxic.

  Good grief. Isn’t that what momma would say? There was so much negativity rattling around in her head, too much doubt and uncertainty.

  Standing next to her sister, Evie, with Evie’s husband, Grady, on the far end, she wondered if the people behind them were thinking about her momma or how she, Shea, had been the worst daughter in the world.

  She should have stayed away.

  Evie reached out her hand and entwined her fingers with Shea’s.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Evie whispered.

  At least someone was.

  “Let us pray,” said Reverend Parker.

  Shea bowed her head. Whether it was from the pull of the earth’s gravity or the realization that goodbye was coming soon—they would be officially laying her momma to rest—the unshed tears that had pressed against her eyes all day slowly began to fall.

  Evie handed her a handkerchief, the cotton soft and worn, her momma’s initials embroidered on the corner, and Shea began to cry harder. It used to infuriate her that while their father was out drinking and spending money they could’ve used, her momma had sat quietly in her rocking chair, humming and embroidering fabric squares.

  Now she was gone and Shea would never get to say goodbye. Or that she was sorry for causing her so much grief. Or that she loved her. She would never be able to tell her momma that she was finally turning things around and success was at her fingertips.

  She buried her face in the soft cloth and tried to breathe in her momma’s scent but all she could smell was Evie’s light perfume. Her chest burned with need to take in more oxygen, for all Shea could manage were little gasps as she held back her hysterics.

  Shea’d been a terrible daughter. She’d been a terrible sister for that matter, leaving Evie to deal with the day to day. But no one was under any different illusions. No one expected Shea Barker to be good, upstanding, or hell...anything. They saw her as they expected someone with her troubled childhood to be. Evie may have broken the cycle, but no one expected Shea to.

  At least she’d been able to afford giving her momma a nice funeral with an abundance of Gerbera daisies in all colors. Her momma’s favorite. She already had enough bad karma to atone for; making her momma’s funeral the best it could be was a no brainer.

  One hit song, the equivalent to hitting the lottery, and this quarter’s royalties were enough to cover the cost. She figured Evie would be worried about the expense Shea had gone to. When they had a quiet moment, she’d try to soothe her sister’s worries—she’d tell her about the song. Though, superstitious to a fault, she’d wait to tell the rest of the story until everything was set and in motion. But any conversation about her life was a loaded topic requiring courage, and right now Shea’s emotional bucket was depleted.

  “Shea?”

  She looked up to find Evie staring at her and she broke, her once contained sobs set free.

  Evie wrapped her in a hug. “Talk to me.” Her voice was low, a whisper in her ear. She rubbed up and down Shea’s back.

  “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” She tried not to wail, her sobs ragged and gasping. She’d started the day short of breath, afraid a deep one would set free her tears, and now she couldn’t get ahead of them to get control.

  “I didn’t either. Come on.” Evie wrapped her arm around her shoulder and led her from the pew out through the side of the church door. Shea was relieved to have her sister’s support, her legs unsteady beneath her.

  She hiccupped, sucked in a deep breath, and wiped her cheeks with the handkerchief. “But you were there. I wasn’t.”

  “Neither was she. It’d been a long time since momma was really with us. I think she’d been slowly slipping away each day. I didn’t realize that until it was too late.”

  A black town car waited to take them to the graveyard. The crowd of mourners made their way to their own vehicles. She saw so many familiar faces, s
o many friends of her momma’s. Some Shea couldn’t look in the eye—too afraid all they'd remember were her teenage antics.

  Her eyes met those of a tall, handsome stranger who gave her a friendly smile. It was nice to see many of Evie’s friends come out to support her.

  Grady held open the car door and Shea slid in, followed by her sister.

  “I’m sorry for sticking you with all the responsibility, letting you do it all, Ev. I’ll never be able to make it up to you.” Shea took three deep, ragged breaths, trying to steady herself and contain the hot mess that she was.

  This was certainly a conversation for a different time. Had she arrived as early as she’d hoped yesterday, maybe they would’ve had it. But planning and timeliness had never been her strong suits even when they needed to be. She covered her wrist with her hand, hiding the pink tint of emerging hives that was beginning to speckle her skin.

  “Stop, you didn’t stick me with anything. I stayed because I wanted to. You have your path to follow and I have mine.” Shea watched Evie and Grady share a look and thought she might burst out in a second round of tears. The way her brother-in-law looked at her sister, with such longing and love, the way he stood behind her as if he was prepared to catch her should she fall—Shea had never experienced anything remotely similar to that unless she were to count the unconditional love of her dog, Roscoe. She scratched a spot on her wrist.

  Lord, if her momma were to see her, she’d call her a sad sack. She’d tell her self-pity was as useful as hen shit on a pump handle—though her momma would have found a different word rather than use an expletive.

  “After the burial, lots of people will be coming by the house. Are you up for that?” Evie asked.

  “I have to be. Just tell me how I can help.” Shea wound the handkerchief through her fingers as she rolled her shoulders back.