Fresh-Start Family

by Lisa Mondello

  She smiled.

  He looked into the truck and then down the driveway. “Are Brian and your father coming in a little while?”

  She sighed, feeling more heat creep up her cheeks. “They were supposed to be right behind me. I had good intentions of bringing back your truck and then leaving with them so you could enjoy your dinner, but…”

  “Your truck broke down again,” he concluded.

  “Most likely.”

  “Then I guess it’s just you and me for dinner. More chicken potpie for us.”

  She absorbed his words and felt a new surge of embarrassment as she realized how it might look to him. Did he think she’d set this up to wrangle an invite to share his dinner? She hadn’t dated since Kent died, and she wasn’t looking for a date now.

  “Oh, I wasn’t inviting myself over for dinner. This dinner was for you. I was just going to drop it by and leave. In fact, if you’re still busy, I can leave it in your oven to warm. It’ll be ready for you when you’re ready to eat.”

  “I’m always ready for chicken potpie. You don’t expect me to eat this thing alone, do you? I’ve got a big appetite, but this is too big even for me to eat by myself.”

  Jenna had the feeling he was just trying to be nice. Just what she needed. A nice guy. She’d always had a soft spot for nice guys. If she could have covered her face with her hands, she would have. But she was still holding the chicken potpie.

  “This looks so bad.”

  Tom chuckled, and she decided she really liked the sound of his laughter, the deep sound of his voice and the way his eyes brightened to a sparkling blue.

  “What’s worse is me eating this whole potpie alone. And by the smell of it, I can see me doing just that. It’s too good not to share. Besides, I don’t bite, Jenna.”

  “No, I know that, but—”

  “No buts. Having dinner with you is certainly more appealing than what I had planned for tonight.”

  “Which was what? I don’t want to keep you from your plans.”

  “That’s just it. I didn’t have any. And I probably would have planned dinner by what I found in the cupboards, which are kinda bare just now. Look, there’s plenty here. We could drive over to your place and all have dinner together there, if you like.”

  “They’ve probably already eaten. I made a potpie for us, too, before we left and left it warming in the oven.” She glanced at her watch. “Dad’s stomach runs like clockwork. I’m sure he was pretty ticked off when the truck broke down again. He probably abandoned it for the hot food he knew was keeping in the oven.”

  Tom nodded and stared at her. “I don’t blame him. Why don’t we go inside and dig into this one? I don’t know how long I can stand to just smell it. I can drive you home afterwards.”

  “No, you don’t have to do that. Our farm is only a little ways up the road.”

  “You just said the truck probably broke down again.”

  “Yeah, and given its age, and the various knee patches my father has already added to it, it’ll probably take all night for him to get it started again.”

  Tom simply nodded. “That good a track record, huh?”

  “Lately. It was pretty dependable up until recently.”

  “It’s a nice night for a walk, but those don’t really look like the best shoes for it. Besides, if your dad and Brian dig into their potpie at home, you probably won’t have a morsel left for you by the time you get there.”

  She laughed at the image of Brian and her father devouring the chicken potpie. “You’re probably right. You sure it’s no trouble?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who made dinner.” He smiled at her with amusement. “Let’s dig into this and then see what we can do about the truck.”

  She wasn’t in the market for a relationship with any man. Especially a military man, however far removed from active duty Tom was at the present time. Her late husband had given her plenty of reason to be gun-shy in that regard.

  Jenna followed Tom into the house, he carrying the potpie with pot holders and she fiddling with her hands for lack of something to do with them. The screen door slammed behind her, making her jump as she walked into the house.

  Unlike her kitchen, Tom’s kitchen was cool. But then his oven hadn’t been working overtime today, baking chicken potpies and cookies for Brian’s homecoming.

  “Would you like a glass of iced tea?” he asked, setting the pie plate on the counter and walking over to the refrigerator to grab a full pitcher of tea already prepared.

  “Yes, thanks.” When he set only one glass on the counter, she added. “Aren’t you having any?”

  “In a bit.” He turned to her and said, “You know, I’ve got a grunge thing happening here from being outside all day. Right now I’m bordering on truly offensive. It might be a good idea if I take a minute to clean up before we eat. Do you mind? You’re not in a hurry, are you?”

  “No, that’s fine. I can keep the food warm in the oven.”

  “Don’t go anywhere.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  Needing something to do after Tom left the kitchen, she leaned against the counter and looked around, crossing her arms over her chest. She was normally comfortable in a kitchen, but she didn’t know what to do with herself here in Tom’s. She took a moment to call her house to make sure her father and Brian had made it home okay, which they had, but after that, she was at loose ends again.

  With the sound of running water filtering in from the other room, Jenna decided to make use of her time and began searching cabinets for some plates, napkins and silverware to set the table.

  The local newspaper was folded neatly on the table along with some mail. One letter was open and sat on top. Before she could scoop it up from the table, she noticed the official Department of Defense seal at the top. She’d seen that seal before, and it immediately brought back to mind the official letter she’d received after Kent died on a training mission. Tom may be out of active duty but he wasn’t so far removed that they couldn’t find him.

  Since it wasn’t any of her business, she left the letter on top of all the mail and tucked the pile neatly away on the corner of the counter for Tom to deal with later.

  A few minutes later she’d found most of what she needed to set the table. She hadn’t found any napkins so she’d settled instead for paper towels, which she’d found hanging from a roll by the sink. She looked at the table and decided it would do.

  By the time she’d poured a fresh glass of iced tea for herself and then one for Tom, she heard the water turn off in the bathroom. Jenna was contemplating the fact that she should have remembered to bring a loaf of French bread or a salad to serve with dinner when Tom stepped into the kitchen, making her jump.

  He’d shaven. She couldn’t figure out how he’d moved so fast, washing all the dirt and grime from his hands and face and managing to shave his five o’clock shadow, too, but he had. He had changed into clean clothes and now wore a pair of army fatigues and a plain white T-shirt.

  “Wow, I see you found what little I had for the table.”

  “I hope you don’t mind. I moved your mail to the counter so we wouldn’t get any food stains on important papers.”

  Tom picked up the top letter with the Department of Defense seal and glanced at her, then back at the stack of mail. He quickly stuffed the letter into the empty envelope and said, “Thanks. It all looks great. I hope you didn’t have to do any washing up. Usually, only one plate gets used at a time. The rest might be a little dusty.”

  “You don’t have much company?”

  “I just moved here. I don’t know anyone.”

  “You know me.”

  “I’m getting there.”

  Her insides hummed in a way she hadn’t felt for quite some time. His startling blue eyes locked onto hers, and she actually felt her hands begin to sweat.

  “I don’t want the potpie to get cold,” she said, deliberately breaking the mood.

  He didn’t look away while he
pulled a chair from the table and waited for her to sit in it.

  A gentleman. Or a gentle man. Either way, it was flattering to have a man treat her like a lady again after all this time. For that matter, it was nice to simply share a meal with a man—to have the sense that he welcomed her company and was pleased to spend time with her.

  Kent had been like that once, when they’d first met. She’d been a nineteen-year-old college student, swept off her feet by his charm and his obvious interest in her. Giving up college and taking on the nomadic life of a military wife had been a choice she’d made willingly out of love. She’d later found out Kent didn’t make such sacrifices for love, especially when he’d made the choice to reenlist soon after Brian’s diagnosis. The military had given him an excuse to ignore what he didn’t want to face the fact that he wasn’t capable of being someone she could depend on.

  Looking back, their marriage had ended long before his death during that training mission. His death had just highlighted their problems. “A freak accident,” the commander had called it, but Jenna knew the truth. Kent had ignored the symptoms of his illness until he faltered because of it, causing his plane to crash. The autopsy had revealed a ruptured kidney cyst, the most likely cause of the accident.

  Jenna had been left a widow at the very young age of twenty-three.

  Alone and with a sick baby, it was her faith in God that had given her the support she’d never gotten from her husband when she needed it. She’d also learned to depend on herself. Independence was her motto now, especially when it came to caring for her son.

  If Tom had noticed the faraway place she’d been in in her mind, he didn’t say. He simply sat down opposite Jenna at the small round table in the center of the kitchen, respecting her need to take a moment for her thoughts. Finally, though, the silence grew awkward. She struggled for something to say.

  “Did you grow up around here?” Tom asked at the same moment she asked, “Do you have family from Chesterfield?”

  His awkward smile matched the way she felt, and oddly put her at ease.

  “I grew up here,” she said quickly. “My parents inherited the farm from my mother’s parents. I still have the same bedroom I had when I was five.”

  “Complete with Barbie doll wallpaper?”

  “How’d you know?” she teased.

  His smile widened, and Jenna decided it was worth it to stand in a hot kitchen and sweat all day just to come by here and see that smile.

  “Your turn,” she said, placing a helping of potpie on his dish and handing it to him.

  “Like I said, I don’t know anyone here.”

  “Chesterfield isn’t exactly a hopping metropolis. In fact, it isn’t even on most maps. How’d you find this place?”

  “I needed a change, opened up a map, closed my eyes and stuck my finger down on the paper. Where my finger landed is where I ended up.”

  She set down her fork. “Really?”

  He nodded.

  “Wow, I could never be that spontaneous.”

  “It really wouldn’t have mattered where I went. But do you know what I thought of the first time I drove into Chesterfield?”

  She shook her head.

  “This place is quiet.”

  She laughed then. “Not around my house. I have a seven-year-old boy.”

  Tom wasn’t laughing, though. He was just looking at her, through her.

  “You like the quiet?” she finally asked when it became too uncomfortable.

  “Yeah, it’s nice.” He took a bite of the potpie and nodded. “This is good.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve missed good food.”

  “You don’t like your own cooking?”

  “For some reason, it always tastes better when someone else cooks.”

  “We’ll have to have you over for dinner sometime. That is, if you’re ever looking to get away from all this quiet.”

  She wondered for a fleeting moment if she’d said the wrong thing. It was her nature to be neighborly. Chesterfield and its farms had wide borders, and you weren’t likely to get chitchat at the mailbox at the end of the driveway, but her house—and many others in the area—had an open door. There was always another place set at the table, be it for someone who’d come out to the farm to help her father or for one of Brian’s friends from school.

  They ate most of their meal in awkward silence mixed with small talk. Unlike Tom, Jenna knew almost everyone in Chesterfield and was only too willing to answer his questions about the town, if only to keep the conversation going. After a while, it became easier and she relaxed until the questions turned to Brian’s health.

  “We make the trip out to Valentine three times a week for dialysis,” Jenna said. “More, if we have an incident like the other night.”

  “Three times a week is a haul for both of you.”

  “You said it. But it’s necessary. I usually schedule the trips after school so Brian doesn’t miss schoolwork. It would be easier if the clinic in town was set up for dialysis, but it doesn’t have the funds for the equipment. There isn’t a need for them to spend the money just for one person, so Brian and I commute. Unfortunately, our one truck has taken a beating because of it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten caught by the side of the road. I know just about everyone en route from here to Valentine.”

  He simply nodded, scraped the plate clean of the last remnants of the chicken potpie. “This was good. Certainly better than what I had planned for tonight.”

  She smiled. “Any further thought on what that would have been?”

  “I probably would have ended up eating a bowl of cereal.”

  Tom insisted she sit and relax while he cleared the dishes and put them in soapy water to soak. Afterward, they sat on the back porch with bowls of vanilla ice cream to top off dinner, and then he drove her home. The ride was made in silence, except for the night creatures calling out as they drove by.

  Her father’s old truck was parked in front of the house, with tools strewn about on the ground around it. It was clear that what she’d already suspected was true. The truck was dead. The hood was still up, a clear indication there hadn’t been success as yet in fixing whatever was wrong with it. A quick glance showed her father was nowhere to be found.

  Tag parked right behind Ben’s truck. He got out of the driver’s seat and walked over to the beat-up truck, which he was sure had seen better days than this. He glanced down at the dark stains on the dirt and the pan under the truck that was catching liquid.

  “It’s leaking oil something fierce,” he said. “How long has it been doing that?”

  “Awhile.”

  “Looks like you’ve got a blown gasket.”

  Jenna chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He scrutinized the truck. “When’s Brian’s next appointment?”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. Her blush crept up her cheeks, making her skin glow. “It’s very nice of you to offer your truck again,” she said, guessing the direction he was going. “But I can’t keep relying on your generosity. We’ve been putting off buying another truck for some time. Now it looks like we’re just going to have to break down and do it. I can’t risk taking Brian back and forth if I can’t trust this truck, even if I have come to know a lot of people along the way from here to Valentine.”

  He nodded. “You might be able to get this one running enough to do errands around town, but I agree it’s not safe to keep taking it to Valentine a couple of times a week.”

  He glanced around their farm. It was in better shape than his for sure, but times were tough and there wasn’t always a lot of extra money at the end of the month to put toward a car payment and high insurance.

  “I don’t think I told you before, but the first person I met when I came to town was Decker Peers,” he added.

  “Mr. Peers? He must have talked your ear off about everyone in town. He knows everyone.”

  Tag smiled. “Yes, he does, and he was quick to let s
ome of the other businesses in town know I had a plane. Since he owns the only convenience store in the area and knows a lot of the other business owners, he offered to pay me to fly out to Valentine and pick up supplies to keep the shelves stocked, and to pick up special orders for him and the others. It’s a lot easier for them to pick up inventory out at my farm than to run into Valentine to get everything themselves. Between Mr. Peers and a few of the other business owners he talked to, it looks like I’ll be flying out a few times a week. I could coordinate my supply run with Brian’s dialysis and bring you both.”

  “No,” she said. “That’s not necessary. You’ve got so many other people who need your services. What if the clinic needs you to make another flight out for a medical emergency?”

  He smiled. “You must have been talking to Sheriff Johnson.”

  She shrugged. “He likes the idea of having a plane in town in case someone needs a life flight out to Valentine if the clinic can’t handle a big emergency. Chesterfield has never had something like that before.”

  “I’m happy to do it, if I can. But that’s for sudden emergencies. What you need is different. Since I have to go to Valentine, anyway, you’re not putting me out of my way. And flying will make the trip quicker for both of you. The drive alone has got to be draining. This way you’ll knock nearly two hours off your travel time each day. And you won’t have to sit in traffic.”

  “I’ve already caused you so much trouble.”

  “Yeah, I had a whole lot of trouble downing that chicken potpie,” he said with a chuckle. “There’s really no reason why we can’t enjoy each other’s company and kill two birds with one stone.”

  “You won’t miss all that quiet?”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I have gotten used to flying alone.”

  He saw her working things around in her mind. All through dinner he’d been watching her, noticing how very different she looked today than she had the night they’d met. With all the worry washed away, she was a pretty woman. Her dark hair was pulled back with combs, and the dress she wore flowed around curves that had been hidden beneath that rain slicker.