“Well, today will be the real test. A dozen five-year-olds and an ocean-themed birthday party.”
“You sure your parents want to host? It sounds pretty awful.”
“Eh, my mom has worked with the five-year-olds at church for years. She knows how to corral them.”
“It was really nice of your parents to volunteer. I’d practically forgotten about Daniel’s birthday. Some dad, huh?”
She hugged him. “You’re a great dad. But with everything that has happened, it’s no surprise it slipped your mind. Besides, it’s all good. The party is a go, and we have a shark cake. Daniel’s going to love it.”
“Thanks to your mom. She even provided the five-year-olds.”
Becca laughed. “Yeah, she gave out the invitations in her Sunday school class, then Pastor Keith personally invited the parents.”
“I have an incredible group of people around me. They’re more than I deserve.”
“Life isn’t about what you deserve. Life is about grace. And grace always gives more than we’ve earned. I’m proud of you for letting people help.”
He shrugged, grinned. “No choice in the matter. Y’all are bossy.”
Her eyes narrowed playfully. “And my city boy just said y’all, which means I’ve taught him something.”
“I’m acclimating.”
“Trini is going to stay here with Tuck while we’re at the party. She’ll keep us on speed dial, so stop worrying.”
“That obvious?”
“Mmm.” She winked. “Come on, you’ve earned a nice day.”
Rave watched Daniel playing sea-themed party games and laugh like a five-year-old should. The absence of his mother was far away from him today, and for that, Rave was thankful. It was near the end of the party that Becca’s dad took Rave into the house and down to the basement, where a perfectly appropriate man cave waited for them. “Nice big screen.” Rave pointed to the TV mounted on the far wall.
Gary, Becca’s dad, grinned. “It swivels. I had just finished fixing up this space when I got laid off. Dora had gotten tired of the noise and mess of Monday-night football. Down here, we can be as loud as we want and make as big of a mess as we want.”
Rave nodded. “Who cleans it up?”
Gary opened a door alongside the large, spacious room that encompassed the entire basement to reveal a tidy broom closet filled with cleaning products and a vacuum. “Me. So don’t spill anything.”
He crossed to a small fridge and pulled out a beer and offered one to Rave. “No, thanks. Just a soda.”
Gary popped the tops on each bottle and motioned for Rave to sit.
The sectional couch was comfortable, and he could imagine hanging out down here on a Monday night. If, of course, he ever garnered an invitation.
“Look, I’m not much for small talk, so I’ll get right to the point.”
Rave slowly set the drink on the coffee table. He knew when a rejection was coming. So many times in life, he’d seen the signs.
“Becca is a really brilliant young woman.”
Rave’s hands grew sweaty. He rubbed them together on his lap. “Agreed.”
Gary looked up at the ceiling for a few long, excruciating moments. “Her mother and I are a little concerned that she’s running headlong into life a little too quickly.”
Rave bit into his cheeks. “And you’re hoping I can slow her down?”
“We’re hoping . . .”
Rave leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Sir, please excuse my frankness, but Becca’s life first took on speed when she stayed here instead of going to college.”
Gary frowned.
“She’s not living the life of a college student. She’s living the life of a woman dedicated to helping her family, paying bills, budgeting money. She’s not a kid anymore. And I’m fairly certain she’ll never be able to go back to that status.”
Gary straightened. “Are you saying she can’t go to college?”
Rave shook his head. “Not as a kid. That’s gone. She can go as a woman. In fact, I’ve been encouraging her. She’s so smart. Alexandra at the coffee shop is wanting to travel Europe for six months next year. She’s talked to Bec about running the shop.”
“I . . . I didn’t know that. She never mentioned it.”
“Well, it just came up recently, but when she asked me if I thought she could handle it, I said yes. But only if she took some business classes in the meantime.”
Gary stared at Rave, his chin slightly cocked, his eyes narrow.
“Look, Alexandra will train her on the business stuff. But Becca needs the confidence some college classes will give her. She’s brilliant. But she doesn’t always believe it.”
Gary leaned back. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry she hadn’t talked to you and her mother yet. She planned to soon.”
“I guess she really is growing up.” Gary leveled him with a look. “About the two of you.”
Rave waited for the bomb to drop.
“We’ve been watching things unfold since you’ve been here, Rave. Your character is . . . well . . . impeccable. You’d have made a great soldier.”
Something like relief rushed from his head down. Until now he hadn’t had a clue what Gary and Dora thought of him. He’d brought so much drama, he hadn’t dared hope they liked him . . . or thought him good for Becca. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”
Gary stood. “We should join the others.”
Rave followed him up the stairs.
Tuck and Trini sat on the front porch in the rocking chairs. The gentle swoosh of the rockers kept a steady beat. “It’s getting cooler,” Trini said.
Tuck nodded. “Fall is right around the corner.” The last two weeks had been a blur with all the medications he’d been on. Pain meds, antirejection drugs, all of it took a toll. But he was alive, and his family was intact for the first time in two decades. Life—with all its faults—was beautiful.
Trini had been there every day to check in on him, something he’d come to look forward to. His feelings toward her had shifted. At least a little bit. Trini had always been a good neighbor and a sweet friend, but somehow, even through the fog of medication and exhaustion, he’d come to see her differently. She was a good woman. The kind you could spend the rest of your years sitting beside on a front porch rocking and maybe even holding hands.
“Sharon must have been feeling pretty good to go to the party today.” Trini had brought out a carafe of hot tea. She poured a cup and held it to Tuck.
“She’s in more pain than she lets on. Has been since the surgery, but she’s determined. Proud of my girl.” His medicine-addled mind hoped Trini hadn’t picked up on his musings.
“And proud of her son.”
Tuck wrapped his fingers around the mug. “They’re my rock.”
“I hear the memorial is almost complete. And they’ve set a date for the ribbon cutting.”
“Two weeks from tomorrow. A congressman is going to be in town and expressed a desire to attend. Since they’ve set the date, now a senator is interested in coming.”
“I guess you are proud of Rave. But you haven’t seen it yet?”
“No. The ribbon cutting will be my first time.”
Trini took the cup from his hands and set it on the ground. She grasped Tuck’s hands in hers. “If it isn’t too forward, I’d like to accompany you.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “I expected you’d want to be there.”
She swallowed, and he watched as her lashes fluttered nervously. “I mean as your . . . date.”
Tuck’s brows tilted down, then up. “Oh. Like a date.” Well, he hadn’t thought of bringing a date, but he sure had been thinking about Trini. What would Millie say? Would she want him to move on? Knowing her, she’d likely told Trini to make the first move since Tuck was a gentleman and would probably die of old age before getting around to it.
Trini cleared her throat. “Mm-hmm. Like a date.”
He grinned. “I guess n
othing would make me more proud, Trini.” He had a life to live. One that was no longer determined by liver cancer. He could date. Millie would want him to.
She patted his hand, then released him and sipped her tea. From the corner of his eye, he could see Trini rocking in the chair and smiling.
It was early on the following Thursday that the call came from social services. They said they were checking into a situation with a Daniel Walters, age five. They planned to send a social worker by the following morning. Rave’s heart had dropped into his stomach. Tuck had called an emergency meeting complete with Sharon, Becca, Trini, and Pastor Keith. They’d all be there with him when the social worker arrived. Rave had been a wreck. He hadn’t slept all night, and Friday morning met him with a slap of cold wind and the threat of losing Daniel. He’d hurried through a shower and dressed in his best clothes. He now stood by the sink, staring into a cup of coffee that had already gone cold. The last thing in the world he wanted was to lose Daniel. He’d worked so hard to protect him. Through all of this. He kept hoping Ashley would call, and maybe, by some miracle, she could talk to social services and explain that Rave was in charge of Daniel legally until she returned.
Trini had made cookies—her famous oatmeal–chocolate chip recipe—and scones. “People are easier to get along with when their bellies are full of yumminess,” she told Rave as nervous energy drove him to dump the cold coffee and pour a fresh cup. He wished his stomach wasn’t in knots.
Trini eyed him over the pan of cookies she’d just pulled from the oven. “You need to get ahold of yourself, Rave.”
“Huh?” It took him a moment even to register her words.
She pointed an oven-mitt-covered finger at him. “I know you’re imagining the worst, but we don’t know what they want yet.”
He placed the coffee on the counter by the pan of cookies. “I’m nervous, Trini. Scared to death, really.”
She removed the avocado-green mitt and came to him. “The way you love that boy oozes from every pore. Anyone can see that. A social worker will be able to see that.”
“It takes more than love, Trini.”
“You’ve got a good home here. Working toward your electrician’s license, you’re an upstanding part of Barton’s community. Give yourself a chance, boy. If you don’t, how can you expect them to?”
When he grinned and nodded, she patted his cheek. “Now eat a cookie. They’re made with love and have magic powers to calm your nerves.”
He doubted that but took one and bit into it. He was just starting to feel at ease when the front doorbell rang. He turned to rush out, but Trini stopped him. “Wait, wait.” She reached up and swiped melted chocolate from his cheek. “Now go. I’ll bring out the cookies and scones in a few minutes.”
Sharon pulled her car into the small spot at Ashley’s apartment. She’d already told the landlord she’d be staying on and keeping the apartment, but Rave had insisted she stay with them at Tuck’s house—which had felt strangely foreign and yet oddly comfortable. It was the home she’d grown up in. But it was different now, no longer hers. Still, being with her dad and with Rave made everything right in the world.
She wasn’t supposed to be driving. Not yet. But she’d woke up and realized they didn’t have any of Ashley’s papers that dealt with Daniel and that might be one of the first questions the social worker would ask. It wouldn’t bode well for her to ask about Daniel’s shot records and Rave to admit he didn’t know if the boy was up to date or not. Rave had been resisting breaking open the locked box of Ashley’s important papers. Sharon understood that. But this was in Daniel’s best interests, and Ashley would want her son to be taken care of. From everything Rave had told Sharon about Ashley, she’d be angry if they didn’t break the lock and access the papers if it meant helping keep her son out of the system.
Besides, Rave knew in his heart they’d have to at some point so they could register Daniel for school, which was only a few days away. Sharon flipped on the bedroom light as she entered and went straight to the closet. Her own clothes were still strewn here and there as she hadn’t been back to the apartment since the donor surgery. Rave and Becca had stopped there and gathered enough of her stuff to live for a week or two and had then emptied the fridge of perishables and locked up. The apartment felt stuffy and lonely, and in the moment, she was thankful on a whole new level that Rave had extended the invitation to stay at Tuck’s.
Sharon carried the box to the table and inspected the flimsy lock. She dug a butcher knife out of the drawer and closed her eyes for a few seconds. “Hope you can forgive me, Ashley. But I believe in my heart this is what you’d want if you knew the circumstances.”
Her strength wasn’t all it should be, and when she placed the knife against the lock and shoved, it slipped, practically gashing her hand open. She moved the box to the kitchen counter by the sink and used the backsplash as an anchor. She wedged the knife, tightened her grip with one hand, and with a solid motion, pounded the end of the knife with her free hand.
The lock broke free. Sharon placed the knife on the counter. Her hands were trembling when she lifted the lid. Maybe the exertion of energy, maybe the fact that she was breaking into personal records. She shook off the obtrusive thoughts and riffled through the papers.
When her gaze landed and held, her mouth dropped open. Her trembling hands became solid, granite slices strong enough to hold the entire world. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Sharon gathered the box in her arms and rushed out of the apartment, leaving the lights on and the front door unlocked.
CHAPTER 22
The social worker stood at the front door with a clipboard in her hand and a phone hanging from her hip. Her glasses were dark red and rimmed a pair of observant brown eyes. She was probably ten years older than Rave. She looked kind when she smiled, and that caused Rave to take a much-needed deep breath. “Hello,” Rave said.
“Hello, I’m Kristin Daus.”
“Rave Wayne.” He shook her hand. “Please come in.” Rave’s gaze went momentarily to Becca. Her smile gave him strength.
Pastor Keith was just coming out of the kitchen, wiping cookie remnants from his fingers onto a paper towel. He stopped when he looked up. “Kristy?”
Her eyes lit up. She blew past Rave and met Keith in the center of the room, arms outstretched. “Pastor Keith, it’s great to see you.”
Rave glanced over at Tuck. He shrugged and gave a nod and a wink. OK. This was probably a good thing, right? The phone in Rave’s pocket buzzed. He’d turned it on silent. Everyone was here, so whoever it was could wait. He just wished his mom would come downstairs.
Pastor Keith and Kristin were engaged in one of those quick, catch-up conversations in which sentences were left unfinished and there were lots of interruptions with phrases like you look great and it’s been too long. Somewhere along the way, Rave gathered that she’d been working in Gatlinburg but had recently relocated back home.
Pastor Keith finally addressed the waiting group. “Kristy used to be in my youth group.” He glanced over at her. “Oh, sorry. You go by Kristin now, don’t you?”
She nodded, all smiles. “Yes, but you can call me Kristy if you forget.”
Pastor Keith took the lead introducing her to everyone. Welcomes were extended, hands were shaken. Rave shot a glance upstairs. He hadn’t seen his mom all morning and figured she’d been tired and was getting a late start. Still, he’d like her down here before they started.
They all sat in the living room, and Trini brought out the cookies and scones along with a carafe of fresh coffee and a pot of tea. Kristin chose coffee and a scone, and for the first several minutes they discussed pleasantries. The weather, the fresh coat of paint on the grocery store, the downtown area’s face-lift. Pastor Keith turned the conversation to the memorial park and told Kristin about Rave’s involvement. He made Rave sound good, and that made Rave self-conscious.
Rave sat with his hands clasped between his knees, trying not to se
em like a nervous wreck. When Kristin had finished her scone, she dusted her hands, took out a pen, and placed the clipboard on her lap, causing Rave to feel like he might hurl.
“We received a call about Daniel, that his mother was gone and may have abandoned him.”
This was it. Rave drew a breath. “Daniel was left in my care, Ms. Daus, and Ashley has always been a loving, sacrificial mother. Yes, she’s out of town now, but she’d never leave Daniel unless he was with me. There’s just so much more to the story.”
Kristin smiled. “There always is. Where is Daniel?”
Becca leaned forward on her seat. “My mother is watching him this morning.”
Rave nodded. “I knew the conversation today would be . . . sensitive . . . I didn’t want to confuse him more. I know you’ll want . . . you’ll want to meet him. But I thought this first meeting should be just us.”
Kristin weighed him through keen eyes. “I couldn’t agree more. It sounds like we have some things to iron out. No need for Daniel to be in the center of that.”
“I know I should have gotten in touch with you. It’s just that I love Daniel more than anything, and I don’t want to see him suffer any more than he already has. He has a life here. With me and Tuck; my girlfriend, Becca; and my mom, who—”
All eyes went to the front door as Sharon came bursting through with a handful of papers in her grip. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Rave couldn’t stop the frown on his face. He’d thought she was still upstairs. Where’d she been? And why hadn’t she made this meeting the top of her priority list after going on and on about how important it was to be there? Words failed him.
Sharon came to him, blocking Kristin’s view. She pressed the pages into his hand with more emphasis than necessary. “Here are the papers you wanted me to retrieve from Ashley’s apartment.” Her wide eyes shot down to the paper on top. “Daniel’s shot records are here and of course”—she squeezed Rave’s hand so hard the knuckles cracked together—“his birth certificate.” Her eyes dropped to it, and Rave’s followed.
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