Holding on to Someday

by K. Leah

  “Well… yes, I was, if I’m honest, but I’m also very excited to be here.”

  She smiles again and squeezes my arms once more before turning back to Brady.

  “Brady, your dad is downstairs piddling with a birdhouse. You want to run down and tell him you two are here?”

  Brady nods and looks to me for a signal that he can step away. I smile to let him know that I’ll be fine, and he says, “Okay, I’ll be right back,” and slips down the hall.

  “So, Clara, why don’t you come back to the kitchen with me? I’m just finishing a pie and I need to put it in the oven.”

  “Sure, and I’ll be glad to help you with anything else if I can. Although I must confess….I’m not much of a cook.”

  As we enter the kitchen, she motions me toward a bar stool and says, “No, no, no… all you need to do is keep me company. I’m going to put this pie in the oven, and then clean up a bit. The rest of the crew should be here shortly.” Whatever she’s cooking smells delicious, and that pie looks like something from the pages of a cooking magazine.

  “Wow…it smells incredible in here,” I tell her.

  She smiles and continues talking, “I hope you like a good Southern meal because that’s what we are having. Chicken pie, potatoes, green beans, slaw and apple pie for dessert.”

  “Sounds wonderful to me.”

  I take a moment to look around the room. Brady’s parents’ home is very cozy. Walls covered in wallpaper, it reminds me of something my mom would have in her house. Pictures adorn every wall, tabletop, and bookshelf. I can’t wait to see what other family pictures are scattered throughout the house. Maybe I’ll even get a peek at Brady when he was a child. I find myself smiling at the thought of a little chubby-cheeked Brady; I bet he was precious.

  I look back at Carolyn as she says, “So, we’ve been on Brady for a while to bring you here. We have a lot of family lunches, but he didn’t want to rush things and throw you into our mass chaos, known as mealtime,” she laughs. I guess with three kids and all of their families, it can get pretty crazy.

  “I feel like I already know you because Brady talks about you so much, but I’m so happy you are finally here. You are such a beautiful young woman.”

  I feel myself flush, and I’m sure my cheeks are turning pink. Young I am not, but I guess compared to her that’s a point of reference.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Reese.”

  “Oh, please call me Carolyn. Mrs. Reese is my mother-in-law’s name,” she chides. “So, you work in marketing… is that right?”

  “Yes, I work at ECM Corp, actually just around the corner from Brady’s office. That’s how we met… at the Corner Café close by.”

  “I know,” she smiles. “Brady told me all about it. He’s had his eye on your for a while, and I’m glad he finally got up the nerve to talk to you.”

  I wonder what she’s talking about as a look of confusion crosses my face. Right as I get ready to ask her about it, Brady and his dad appear in the kitchen. Turning to meet him, an older replica of Brady stares back at me. Spitting image of him actually, except for the full head of gray hair.

  “Wow, you look just like your dad,” I say because I can’t hide the reaction. Mr. Reese smiles and comes up to give me a big, bear hug too.

  “Dad, this is Clara. Clara, this is my dad, Steven.”

  “Glad you are here to join us, Clara. It’s so nice to meet you finally! Welcome to our home,” he says. He turns to Brady and playfully elbows him in the side, “You did good son… she’s a beautiful lady.”

  Brady laughs and comes over to wrap his arm around me, kissing the side of my head.

  “So, Mom… when will the rest of the crew be here?”

  “I expect them any….” and she is cut off by the pitter-patter of little feet running down the hall, followed by a happy squeal.

  I hear a little voice call out, “Grammy!!!!!” and then I see Carolyn bend over to pick up an adorable, white-haired little girl.

  “How’s my baby girl?” she says, showering the little girl in kisses as she squeals and wiggles in her arms.

  Tagging along right behind her has to be Brady’s sister because she looks just like him. They both take after their dad. She smiles and joins us in the kitchen.

  “Hey, Clara, I’m Reagan,” she says, as she extends her hand to me. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m glad you can join us today.”

  Carolyn asks, “Where’s Carter?” who I assume must be her husband based on what I know of his family.

  “He was called into work last-minute,” she says, and I see his parents frown. “Bummer, I know.”

  Brady reaches for the little girl in his mom’s arms, and she immediately flings herself to him. He catches her with a playful grunt, “And this baby doll is Liza,” he tells me as he nuzzles her neck with kisses. I love seeing him with her, and she obviously adores him by the way she has her arms wrapped around his neck.

  “Knock, knock,” I hear someone call out.

  “In the kitchen!” Carolyn says.

  Two teenage girls enter the kitchen and, in unison, greet their grandparents.

  “Hey Grams! Hey Pop!”

  Brady’s brother enters next and goes up to his brother, and they give each other a hug and a slap on the back.

  “Cole, this is Clara. Clara, this is my brother Cole and his wife, Nicole. These are their girls, Bree and Abby.” Cole and Nicole take turns shaking my hand, while the girls smile and nod hello.

  “It’s so nice to meet all of you,” I say. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home, Mr. and Mrs. Reese.” Brady’s mom gives me a stern look, and I quickly retract my statement. “Carolyn, I mean,” and smile.

  “That’s better,” she nods and then quickly says, “Okay, so now that we are all here, let’s give thanks so we can eat!”

  Brady comes around behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him. “See, I told you it would be fine,” he whispers in my ear.

  Steven says the prayer and then everyone files into a line at the bar. I follow suit and find myself standing behind Reagan. She turns to me and says, “We are super informal here, so I hope it’s okay with you that we fix our plates and then go sit down.”

  “Of course, I’m so glad Brady finally brought you to meet us. We’ve heard all about you for months and have been dying to meet you.”

  And, there it is again. Brady must have been talking about me to his family for a long time. At least longer than we’ve been together according to their references and emphasis on the wait to meet me. We’ve only been in a relationship for about three months. I know that’s plenty long enough for a family to want to meet a girl their son or brother is dating, but it’s strange their extended time references.

  Once our plates are piled high with Carolyn’s cooking, Brady leads me to a seat at the table. Conversation flows easily throughout the meal, and I learn a little more about each family member as lunch progresses. Liza is two, and wide-open, talking animatedly through the entire meal. She is the center of everyone’s attention, while Reagan tries to get her to be quiet long enough to take a bite of food. I also piece together that Reagan is a stay-at-home mom and her husband, Carter, is an engineer. Cole, the only one of the three kids who resembles Carolyn, and Nicole own a landscaping business in Mooresville. Their girls, Bree and Abby, sit quietly through the meal. They are polite if I ask a question, but otherwise, don’t contribute much to the conversation.

  Of course, everyone inundates me with questions, and I try my best to answer them all without becoming too overwhelmed. I feel like I’m a contestant on The Bachelor, and Brady has brought me on a hometown date where the family asks question after question. We sit at the table, talking long after the apple pie is gone. Liza has finally fallen asleep on her Pop’s shoulder. I smile at the precious sight of this tiny little girl with her drooling mouth hanging open.

  Afterward, we all help Carolyn clean up the kitchen. It is great to see his family work together so e
asily. I can see myself fitting right in here. They have a routine, and everyone seems to know their part. When everything is clean and earns Carolyn’s approval, Reagan decides she needs to take Liza home and put her down for a nap. Cole and Nicole also have to leave because one of the girls has a basketball game. So, that leaves Brady, his parents, and myself.

  I walk around the living room, looking at all the family pictures, while everyone says their goodbyes. Brady comes to stand beside me, with his hands tucked in his pockets and an easy smile on his face. “So, what do you think?” he asks.

  “I think I love your family,” I tell him.

  He bumps me gently with his shoulder and says, “And I think they love you too.”

  Brady grabs my hand and leads me on a tour of the house. As we walk, Brady shows me pictures of him as a child, and every so often, his parents will interject a few more details about what took place in those pictures. There are a few embarrassing stories as well. His dad takes us downstairs to show us the birdhouses he’s been making. Carolyn asks if we would like some coffee, but Brady declines. “Well, Mom… you know how much I love a cup of coffee,” he says smiling at me, “but we need to get a few more things done before we call it a day.”

  I can see a look of disappointment pass over her face, but she bounces right back. “I understand. I’m glad you carved out some time for us today and joined the family gathering.” She then comes up to me and wraps her arms around me again. “I’m so glad you came today, Clara. You fit in perfectly with our family. Like you were made for us.” She looks up to Brady who is standing beside me and cups his cheek while giving him a sweet smile.

  “Love you, Mom,” Brady tells her as he leans in to hug her, and then he goes over to his dad and hugs him as well. “Love you too, Dad.”

  Steven hugs me as well. “Y’all have a good evening and bring her back soon, son.”

  We wave goodbye as we go out the door and I swear I am smiling from ear to ear as we climb into his SUV. Brady looks at me from the driver’s seat and smiles.

  “Good?” he asks.

  “Good,” I respond, and we pull out of the driveway.

  ♦♦♦

  We run a few more errands before calling it an evening. We are exhausted from such a long day, but I wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world. Once we get back to my apartment, Brady - ever the gentleman - carries my bags inside.

  “You going to stay for a little while?” I ask.

  “If I may,” he responds with a smirk, and I give him a look like he knows better than to ask.

  He leans in for a kiss. I smile against his lips as his hands wrap behind my neck to pull me closer. This alone time with him is what I need to close the chapter on this day. Even though we’ve been together all day long, I’ve had to share him with family and other shoppers. We settle onto the couch, wrapped in each other's arms and enjoy the quietness surrounding us. Brady nuzzles my hair and then turns me to face him. Gazing into his eyes, I see the same thing that mirrors my own. Love. It’s there in big, bright, bold, neon, blinking letters. I know without a doubt that I love this man. As if he were reading my mind, Brady whispers, “Clara, I’m in love with you.”

  My breath catches. Even though I feel the same way, hearing the words leave his lips takes me by surprise.

  “I love you, Clara, and today showed me even more how much I do.”

  His hand cups my face and I reach up to place my hand over his. Tears prick my eyes as I try to form a response to his words but overcome with emotion; I don’t know what to say first.

  Before I can respond, Brady continues, “I have only ever loved once. That was ripped from me, and I thought I would never love again. That I couldn't ever love again. Then, I met you, and all those feelings that I had buried started to resurface. The more I saw you, the more I wanted to be near you. When I kissed you the first time, it was as if a lightbulb turned on for me. Like I had been wandering around in the dark, but suddenly I could see again. I think I fell in love with you that night, but I didn’t want to rush it because it seemed too soon. The more I was with you I knew my heart was changing. You healed me, and for that, I owe you everything.”

  Brady’s words are like music to my soul. Tears begin streaming down my face, and I lean in to kiss his lovely mouth. I cannot thank God enough for bringing this man into my life.

  I break our kiss long enough to say, “Brady, I love you too.”

  “Say it again,” he says breathlessly.

  “I love you, Brady Reese,” and he kisses me so hard that I feel it all the way to my toes.

  I laugh, “Are we crazy?” I ask him.

  “Yes. Crazy in love. And I love crazy!” he says, kissing me again and again. I throw my arms around his neck, soaking it all up, as he wraps his strong arms around me.

  We end up snacking on junk food for dinner and watch a movie. Mostly we enjoy being wrapped up in each other’s love. After the wonderful day we just shared, I don’t want to think about the business trip I have coming up in a few days. Times like these make me wish I could pack Brady in my suitcase and take him with me. I’m going to miss him. I mean, I already missed him before, but something about hearing him confess his love for me makes it that much harder to be away from him.

  Part III

  26

  Houston We Have a Problem

  Brady

  I finish lunch and head back to the office. All I can think about is how ready I am for Clara to be home from her business trip this afternoon. Most of her trips last only a couple of days at most, but even two days are one day too many for me. I insisted on taking her to the airport so that I could pick her up when she returned.

  I busy myself going through a stack of files I’ve avoided far too long to help pass the time until I can pick her up. My cell phone rings, but I’m in the middle of something, so I ignore it. It rings again, almost immediately. Looking up from the mound of papers I’m flipping through; I see the phone scooting further across the desk with each vibration. I stand up and walk to grab the phone before it slides off into the floor. When I look at the screen, I see:

  (2) Missed calls: Clara

  Before I have a chance to press redial, it starts ringing again. Suddenly, I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I can’t quite put my finger on the reason why.

  “Clara?” I answer, but all I hear is static on the other end. After a moment, I say “Clara!” again, a little louder this time, willing her to respond. Still, I only hear static and sounds of commotion in the background.

  “Clara… baby… I’m here! Clara… can you hear me?!” I yell into the phone. Still no answer, and then the connection is lost. I stare at the phone. A sense of panic begins to spread through me, and I have this intense fear that something is wrong. I redial her number, but it goes straight to voicemail. I leave her a message:

  “Clara… call me… I’m sorry I missed your calls. I’m here at the office. Call me as soon as you get this message. I’m worried about you.”

  Then, I send her a text message too, just in case:

  Brady: Call me. I’m here. What’s wrong?

  I force myself to sit at my desk as I wait for a response. I stare out the window, mainly because I don’t know what else to do. It seems like hours have passed but when I look at the clock, it’s only been 30 minutes. She still hasn’t called back. Nor has she texted. I begin contemplating reasons for her calls. It must have been something important, right? Not being able to get in touch with her makes me worry. I’m not even sure what I’m worried about, but regardless, I can’t concentrate. I stare at my phone, willing it to ring, but it never does. After an hour, I’m too restless to work, so I tell my assistant I’m leaving for the day, and I head out the door. I decide to walk to Clara’s office, thinking that maybe Angie has heard from her. As I walk to her office, I find myself praying nothing bad has happened. Her phone probably just went dead, or she didn’t have a good signal. Maybe her flight had been delayed, and now she ca
n’t call me back because she’s in the air. I’ll see her in a couple of hours, and everything will be fine. Right?

  I walk into Clara’s office and find Angie sitting at her desk. When she sees me, she smiles. “Well, hey you!!”

  “Hey, Angie… listen, have you heard from Clara today?” I ask.

  She looks puzzled and says, “No, but she’s flying in today.”

  “Yeah, I know that. I’m picking her up from the airport. I just wondered if she’s tried to call you. She called me a couple of times, but there was so much static I couldn’t hear her. I haven’t been able to get in touch with her since. Just thought I’d check in with you to see if you’ve heard anything from her.”

  “No, Brady I haven’t.”

  “Okay. It’s probably nothing...I just have this…. weird feeling about it.”

  Angie can see the concern on my face; I pause for a minute, trying to think of what to do next.

  “Brady, it was probably just a bad connection or something,” Angie tells me.

  I’m sure I’m overreacting, and it’s nothing more than a change of plans or flight delay she was trying to relay to me.

  “Yeah… probably so,” I tell her. “I’m going to head on over to the airport a little early. Do you have her flight info handy? That way I can look it up when I get there.”

  “Sure... hold on a sec.” After a few clicks of the mouse, Angie writes down the flight number on a sticky note and hands it to me. “I think she had a layover in Atlanta. I remember it wasn’t a direct flight, but it’s still the same flight number. Can you text me when you get in touch with her? Just for reassurance,” she asks me.

  “You bet. Thanks, Angie,” I tell her as I tuck the note in my pocket and head out the door.

  The drive to the airport isn’t very far. I park in short-term parking and head inside to the luggage claim area. I look at my watch - 3:15 pm. I’ve got 45 minutes to waste, so I decide to grab a drink and a newspaper, and then I sit down to wait for Clara’s plane to land. After a few minutes of staring at the paper without really reading it, I check my phone again.