Love Comes Home: A Collection of Second Chance Short Stories

by Kristi Rose

“I can’t. I’m still really pumped up.” He yawned again.

  “I can see that. Come on. I’m taking you home. You’re going to crash here and be bad business for this diner.”

  “At least let me get some food. I’m starving.”

  Shea waved Andee over and placed a to-go order. Even with Lorelei rushing the order, the wait was agony. Leo’s cycles of up and down as he fought off sleep might have been funny if she wasn’t so worried he might pass out right in his seat, collapse forward, and bash his head on the counter. Once his food was complete, she pushed Leo out of the diner and asked for his keys.

  “I can’t let you drive my car,” he said.

  “Why not.”

  “Because then you’ll be stuck at my place.”

  “I’ll call Evie to come get me. Keys.” She gestured with her hand.

  He dug in his pocket, put the keys in her hand, and took the to-go bag from her other one. “I’m gonna eat in the car.”

  “You do that.”

  Between bites, he gave her directions to his house. She pulled into the driveway of a cute Craftsman-style house on the south side of town a few streets away from Lake Hollingsworth, an area Shea used to think of as the rich side of town.

  “Don’t hate me because I didn’t grow up on the north side,” he said scarfing down toast.

  “I used to want to live on this side of town. I thought that it was far enough away from people who knew what my dad was like and we could all start over. I could go to the performing arts high school and Evie could go off to the University of Florida. Something about that dream felt right. Doable.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the performing arts school? I bet you would have gotten in.”

  “I did get in. But then the accident happened and everything changed.”

  He nodded in understanding, his eyelids fluttering.

  “Come on, sleeping beauty. Let’s get you to bed.”

  She followed him into the house and starting turning down the blinds. His place was homey, comfy leather couches and chairs made of tweed. His desk, a large, heavy wood piece, sat in a room off the living room and was covered with books and paper. A large kid’s dictionary sat on a chair, as did an even larger thesaurus.

  “I’m going to call Evie and I’ll let myself out when she comes,” she said as he fell onto the couch.

  “Just take my car,” he mumbled from the cushions.

  Shea pulled out her phone to text her sister but paused when she saw a pile of books, all with the same cover, stacked on the floor. Three similar piles were next to it. Four different books, each stack the same height. They looked to be books for kids. She picked one up.

  “Hey, Leo. What’s this?” She stood next to the couch and showed him the book. Why would he have stacks of kid’s books? Her mind ticked off the possibilities. Some were not good.

  He cracked an eyelid open. “It’s mine,” he mumbled and just as quickly closed his eye.

  “Yours?”

  He lifted his hand and wrapped it around her calf then opened one eye again. He looked at the book then back at her and she saw a slight lift to his mouth.

  “You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I wanted to tell you that at the wake but thought it might be inappropriate.”

  She laughed softly and bent to brush the hair from his forehead.

  “When I listen to you sing I feel like I can beat any odds. That everything is fixable.” His voice faded off as he closed his eye.

  She was grateful his eyes were closed and that he was unaware of the impact his words had on her. If she were to look in a mirror, she was one hundred percent positive her cheeks would be flaming red. No one had ever said such a lovely thing to her without wanting something in return: sex, to mold her into what they thought a country star was, to steal her songs.

  “Leo, did you write this book?” she whispered.

  “Mm-hm.” His hand dropped from her leg and the beginnings of a soft snore came from him.

  She scanned the cover and flipped open the book to the back page looking for the author information.

  Leo Davis lives in the South where he enjoys watching sports and pretending he’s a famous quarterback. As a child, he had a difficult time learning to read, and writing was just as hard. Catching a ball came easy to him, but like the boys in his adventure stories—sometimes doing what’s easy does not lead to happiness. With a lot of hard work and determination, Leo was able to improve his reading and, since he wrote this book, his writing, too. If you have a hard time with writing, reading, or even math, just know, you’re not alone. Ask someone for help. Make time to practice and review what you know. Leo Davis was able to do it and you can, too.

  Shea opened the book and read a few of the pages. It was clearly written for the enjoyment of all levels of readers. With her phone, she researched his pseudonym. Although no picture came up, there were several articles about high interest, low-reading-level chapter books, and Leo was one of the bestselling authors in that market. Parents were raving about how his books appealed to a wide variety of kids who weren’t able to read at their grade level yet weren’t embarrassed to read these books because the cover spoke of a content that wasn’t geared to the developmentally younger child.

  Taking a sheet of paper off his table and a pen she found on the floor, Shea wrote Call me and left her number. She kissed him on the cheek, covered him with a light blanket, and stepped out onto his porch. She texted Evie to come get her and while waiting on his porch swing, began reading his book.

  When daylight comes, I run outside, I want to play but I want to hide. There is only so much time to be the child who is wild and free.~ WHISKY AND WATER."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “What do you mean we will have to reschedule?” Shea tried to keep her voice even, her pitch from rising as she stared at the lawyer’s secretary.

  “I’m sorry. Mr. Watson has been delayed at court and is unable to meet with you all today. I left a message on your voice mail.”

  Evie pulled out her phone, showed it to Shea, and sure enough a little red number rested above the phone icon. “When will Mr. Watson be able to see us?”

  “Let me see. Friday?”

  Shea tried not to groan. She was going to have to tell Evie what was going on. She was going to have to drive back to Nashville, have the interview, and then come back down to meet with the lawyer. She might jinx her chance by filling her sister in, but what other option did she have?

  “We’ll take it,” Evie answered.

  “But if something comes up sooner, could you please call us. We’d like to resolve this as soon as possible,” Shea added.

  “His docket is pretty tight. It’s unlikely something will open up.” The secretary gave them an apologetic look.

  “How about the following week? Next Monday?” Shea asked.

  Another look of pity from the secretary before she said, “Mr. Watson will be on vacation for three weeks beginning Monday.”

  Evie gave her a puzzled look before turning back to the secretary. “What time Friday?”

  “Nine.”

  “Perfect. We’ll see you then. Thank you,” Evie said to the secretary then turned to push Shea toward the door.

  Shea paused in the hallway, torn between wanting to leave but needing to stay and fix the appointment issue.

  “What’s going on?” Evie demanded once they were outside the old house turned law office.

  Shea searched for the right words. “I can’t be here Friday.”

  “I thought you didn’t have a time line?”

  “I have an interview in Nashville Friday.”

  Evie searched her face. “Interview for what?”

  “To be a music writer on a kids’ show.”

  Evie raised her brow. “I didn’t know you had an interest in that.”

  Truth was, Shea didn’t. What she had an interest in was steady work, building her name, and being a responsible adult.
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  “I think I’m interested. I need to be there Friday morning. I can drive up Thursday and then drive back when Mr. Watson gets back from his vacation.” She liked the idea of coming back for a second trip.

  Evie nodded. “Ok,” she whispered.

  Shea headed for the office but turned back when she realized Evie wasn’t following her.

  “Ev?”

  Her sister burst out crying. “I’m sorry, Shea. I know it’s selfish of me. Please don’t hate me but I can’t wait. Isn’t there another solution?” She turned her back to Shea and buried her head in her hands.

  “I could never hate you.” From behind, she wrapped her arms around her sister and held on. If she knew one thing about Evie, it was that she hated people to see her cry.

  “I can’t go back to at that place,” Evie said between sobs.

  Shea had never thought about how Evie must feel, working at the place where their momma had lived and died. Her first and only job as an occupational therapist had been at the nursing home and she chose that so she could be close to momma. Shea wouldn’t want to go back either. She rested her head against her sister’s and let her own tears fall.

  “Then don’t go back. Quit.”

  Evie dropped her hands from her face and held on to Shea’s arms. “That’s what Grady said but I can’t. We have a small emergency fund and I don’t want to use that just so I can quit a perfectly good job. I can’t quit until I find another one but if I—” She broke again.

  “If you had the insurance money you’d be able to quit and you can’t get that until we read the will and you need me here so the will can be read,” Shea answered for her.

  Evie nodded. “I hate even thinking about using that money and asking you to stay. Can you have them push back the interview? Can you catch a plane and maybe be able to do them both? I know you’re miserable here. You even get hives, but could you stay to get this resolved?”

  “Actually, I’m not miserable and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I haven’t had hives the last few days, so stop worrying about me. You’ve given enough to me. Now it’s time to take care of you. You and Grady. I’ll call my agent and see what she can do.”

  “I love you, you’re my sister. I will always worry about you.”

  “I know. I love you, too.” Shea hugged her sister tighter. “We’re a mess, you and I.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, aside from crying in a parking lot, I think we still live our lives waiting for the bottom to fall out. If you go back to that job and stick this money in the bank, never to be touched, momma will roll over in her grave. This is what she did it for. This is an opportunity. She’s giving you security that gives you choices.”

  Evie nodded and sucked in a ragged breath.

  “Let’s go by your work so you can give notice. Come on.” Shea dragged Evie to the car and pushed her into the passenger seat, and took her keys. “I’ll drive, that way you can’t find an excuse to chicken out.”

  “It’ll be hard going into the building.”

  “Yeah, but we’ll do it together.”

  ***************************************

  Twenty-four hours later Leo called her. He sounded well rested and back on his game and still very excited that he’d had a breakthrough but terrified that what he’d written would be incoherent gibberish.

  Evie and Grady were in the back yard grilling out, celebrating Evie’s decision to quit. There was a noticeable change with Evie who seemed lighter and less worried now that she was no longer tied to her job.

  Shea stepped out of the house and tucked her phone into her skirt pocket. “Do you all mind that I invited Leo over for dinner?” she asked and sat in the chair next to her sister.

  “Not at all. I like Leo,” Evie said.

  “He’s got a mean spiral,” Grady added.

  Life was moving on since the funeral. Maybe not like she’d expected it to. Kimberly was unable to change the interview and in that moment Shea had picked. She chose family. There were no flights that could get her to Nashville and back in time to do both appointments, even if she left today. The prospect of flying to L.A. was in discussion. Regardless, Shea was prepared to lose the opportunity. Giving back to her sister had now become the top priority. They needed to read the will to start the healing process.

  Leo arrived with a watermelon tucked under his arm. He was dressed more like the guy she’d initially met, khaki shorts and a polo shirt, his hair combed away from his face.

  They all made small talk at first but when Evie and Grady stepped inside to bring out the steaks and another pitcher of iced tea, Leo leaned toward her and smiled.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Took something from my house, didn’t you?” He rested his arms across his knees.

  “I borrowed a book,” she said.

  “Did you read it?”

  “Yes, and I like it a lot. I can see why it appeals to kids.”

  He nodded, and then smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Why haven’t you told anyone? You should be telling the world. Going to schools and speaking to the students.”

  He shrugged. “I spent a long time trying to overcome my belief that I was a stupid kid. Once I understood that I learned differently, that I had a learning disability, everything began to change. People see me as a regular guy, not a guy who struggles with reading. I like that.”

  She nodded because she understood. She had liked being in Nashville, away from Lakeland, because no one saw the Shea whose daddy drank too much and couldn’t keep it private. No one knew that he’d died and nearly killed her momma or that she had an arrest record by the time she was fifteen for shoplifting. But she was so alone there and here she felt a part of something more, here she had history, good and bad.

  “You should tell people. That’s just my opinion and I’ll keep your secret but you should tell.” She reached out and took his hand.

  “You should do the same.” He laced his fingers with hers.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The music. You should tell your sister about the music.”

  The back door opened and Evie came out carrying a pitcher of tea. “Who wants a refill?” She glanced at their entwined hands but didn’t say anything.

  “I’ll take some more, please,” Shea said.

  The DJ on the stereo introduced the next song and “Whisky and Water” came on.

  “Grady, babe. Could you turn the station, please?” Evie asked as she refilled Shea’s glass. Evie couldn’t meet her gaze and when she turned to put the pitcher down, Shea watched her blow out two slow breaths and reach back to twist her hair around her fingers, something she did when she was unsettled.

  Her song reminded Evie of their dad the same way coffee did Shea.

  Leo gave Shea’s hand a squeeze and when she turned to him, his reassuring smile gave her strength.

  Shea gripped his hand and took a deep breath. “Actually, Ev, I’d like to hear it. It’s not often a person gets to hear a song they wrote on the radio. Besides that, every time it plays, I get paid. I’m sorry you don’t like it.” That part hurt the most. But knowing why her sister didn’t like her work softened the blow.

  Evie sat on the edge of the deck, the tea pitcher clutched in her arms. “I knew you wrote a few songs and sold some, too, but you never said any had made it big.”

  “This one just took off. Caught me by surprise.”

  “That’s how you were able to get all those flowers for the funeral, right? I was so worried that you were spending all your hard-earned cash. I knew you were working lots of jobs like the one at the museum.”

  “It’s a cash cow. A cathartic one at that.” Shea let go of Leo’s hand and went to sit next to her sister.

  “It’s a hard song for me to hear, Shea. It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s that it reminds me of us.”

  “It is us. I’ll admit that at first I was hurt that you didn’t like it,
but I get it now.” She wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulder.

  “So you’re famous now.”

  “It’s gotten me some recognition.” Not wanting to add to her sister’s guilt, she’d told her that the interview had been changed.

  “But to write this and then write kids’ music, they don’t seem to match.”

  “They don’t. But it’s a job that pays.”

  “Yeah, apparently so is song writing.” Evie nudged her with her elbow. “But what about being a singer?”

  Shea glanced at Leo, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m giving that up. I don’t want to break into it anymore.”

  “You want to be a songwriter?”

  Shea nodded.

  “Really?” Evie whispered. “That sounds great. But you saw how much everyone loved this song. You should do more of this. If momma’s money is going to be used for me to start over, why can’t it do the same for you?”

  Shea gave her words thought. Could she finally have one job and be a songwriter? “I dunno. I guess it can.”

  “Then you can write what you want.” Grady chimed in.

  She grinned sheepishly first at Evie and then Leo. “But I want the steady income.”

  “You could do that with royalties. Granted they aren’t steady with amounts but they arrive in a predictable fashion,” Leo said.

  “And you could write songs from anywhere. Like here for example. You could use the insurance money as a cushion.” Evie added.

  “I could live here. See you all the time,” Shea said, considering the idea for the first time.

  “I would love that.” A tear fell from Evie’s eye. “More than anything I would love that.”

  Shea wrapped her arms around her sister, the tea pitcher between them, and held on.

  Grady reached between them and took the pitcher, opening up the space for them to have a proper hug. “I think this is what your momma meant when she used to say ‘good grief,’” Grady said. “Because even in all the hurt good things happen. Like a sister coming home. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Shea. Should you decide to stay.”