Tony shook her hand. “I don’t see any competition between an Italian restaurant and a chic bistro like yours.”
Had the guy seriously just used the word chic?
Hailey fluttered her eyelashes. “I’m sure you’re right. We close at five, after all.”
“And Antonio’s will open at four. Your cousin is Kassidy, right? She and I went to school together in Galena Landing.”
“Yes. You missed your chance with her, though. She got married a few months ago and is already expecting their first child.”
Tony smiled. “I’m happy for her. I’ll be too busy with the new restaurant to date for quite a while. I’m sure you know what it’s like.”
Dan bit back the snort. Hailey might be a good businesswoman, but he’d hazard a guess she’d toss it all aside if a half-decent man offered the time of day. She certainly gave off that vibe, even to Dan, and he’d been firmly attached to Dixie the whole time he’d known Hailey.
Still was, but Dixie wasn’t attached back.
A buzzer sounded from the kitchen, and Hailey waved toward the far end of the bistro where several men had already gathered around a series of pulled-together tables. “Your breakfast will be right out.”
The guys greeted each other as Dan and Tony slid into their seats. The server, Shay, poured coffee all around then Hailey brought out a trolley loaded with hot breakfast sandwiches and fruit cups.
Peter offered grace before everyone dug in. “I just wanted to bring a word this morning before prayer time,” he said. “I’ve been reading in the minor prophets lately. Have you really looked at Joel chapter two?”
Dan couldn’t say that he had. He was still on perpetual repeat of the gospels, rereading the life of Jesus.
“This is the Lord talking to the people of Israel.” Peter tapped on his screen, “Here’s what He says: ‘I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you. You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you. And my people shall never again be put to shame. You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I am the Lord your God and there is none else. And my people shall never again be put to shame.’”
“Must be important,” put in Jacob. “I notice God says it twice. ‘My people shall never again be put to shame.’”
Across the table, Wesley Ferguson leaned on his elbows. “I like that bit about restoring the lost years. I really feel like that’s been true in my life.” His gaze found Tony’s. “Don’t know you, man, but let’s just say my life took a wild ride before God reeled me in. I didn’t even know He was fishing for me all that time.”
Dan chuckled. “I hear you on that.” He turned back to Peter. “Read that first part again?”
“Sure. ‘I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you. You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you.’” Peter looked up. “The locust and that other stuff represents our destructive behavior, all the junk that ruins our lives until God gets hold of us.”
Never be put to shame. Wasn’t that amazing? If only Dixie could hear that. Hear it and truly grasp it. Not that Dan understood all the nuances himself, but every day he spent in the Word, he latched onto a little more.
Peter set down his phone, had another bite of his egg sandwich, and swallowed. “Anyway, just wanted to share those verses about restoration. I read them over and over yesterday when I came across them and found great comfort.”
Compared to Dan, Peter had lived an exemplary life. It was hard to imagine what he needed restoring from. Maybe the level of sin didn’t matter so much. Everyone had done wrong, after all. Dan had realized that to the core of his soul. He’d needed redemption, but restoration was more. It wasn’t just saving from something, but restoring to something even better. It put the positive spin to it.
“Reminds me of something in the psalms,” Nathan Hamelin put in. “I think it’s the second part of Psalm thirty, verse five.”
Peter swiped his phone on and found it. “‘Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.’”
“That’s the one. Do you have The Passion Translation in there? Because that was cool.”
“Sure. Give me a second. ‘We may weep through the night, but at daybreak it will turn into shouts of ecstatic joy.’”
“Yeah.” Nathan pumped his fist lightly. “Like some of the rest of you, I went my way, too. Did a lot of things I’m not so proud of. But God forgave me when I repented. I’m not ashamed to admit there was weeping in the night as I came to my senses. But shouts of ecstatic joy at dawn? Yeah. I’ve had those, too. God is so faithful to restore. Some days I still marvel at it.”
Shouts of joy in the morning? Dan felt like he was stuck in the crying-all-night stage, but it was nice to know there’d be a party at daybreak. If only Dixie’d be there to dance with him.
He cleared his throat. “Please keep praying for Dix.”
Solemn eyes met his as his friends nodded. “You’ve got it, man. We’re storming heaven’s gates for her soul.”
“Thanks.”
12
Dixie shut the door on the courier and stared at the formidable envelope with an official-looking return address in the upper left corner. Dawson and Banks Family Law.
Her gut churned. Did she even want to read this? But she might as well, since she’d had to sign for the thing. Dawson and Banks had evidence she’d received it. With trembling fingers, she slit the envelope and pulled out a thick folded paper. Her gaze floated to the bottom. It was from Ms. S. Guthrie, Attorney at Law, Dawson and Banks Family Law.
The other shoe had dropped. Great.
Dear Ms. Wayling,
My client, Mr. Daniel John Ranta, has applied to the State of Washington for permanent custody of minor children Amanda Dawn Wayling, Buddy Carson Wayling, and Henry Donovan Wayling.
Mr. Ranta claims...
The words blurred, and the room swam around Dixie. How could Dan do this to her? Oh, she knew. Of course, she knew. Everyone had a limit, and she’d reached Dan’s. Wasn’t this what she wanted? The kids were better off without her. She’d come to that conclusion many times and stuck by her decision for over a week now. She’d burned all her bridges when she’d locked a crying child alone in that house.
This was it, then. If she didn’t fight this stupid letter, she’d never see her children again. Mandy’s brown eyes implored her mama not to leave. Buddy angled his curly head up at her with a skeptical side-eye. The baby reached dimply arms toward her, his adorable grin threatening to melt all the ice in her soul.
What had she been thinking, walking away from her children? How could she know if they really were better off without her? Her head was so muddled, and it wasn’t all booze. Drinking and dancing and partying weren’t as much fun as they used to be when she and Dan were together. Drat him, anyway.
Or not. The guy was a rock. She needed him to be a rock as much as she hated him for it.
Dixie rubbed her forehead, where a band of tension cinched ever tighter. Leaving was supposed to make things easier. Easier and more stable for the kids. Easier for Dan — except for the whole childcare thing — and definitely easier for her.
If this were easier, she couldn’t take harder. Kristoff was after her to tease more at the bar. Apparently, men complained she was standoffish. Yeah, well, they weren’t Dan, okay? She didn’t want to hop into bed with just any old guy. Dan had spoiled her.
Dan loved her. Wanted to marry her, to form a family. What was she running from?
Without finishing the letter — she could imagine the rest of it just fine, thanks — she flipped her phone to the prodigal son story Linnea had talked about.
Dan had once installed The Passion Translation app on her cell. She’d mock
ed the name but hadn’t bothered to delete it. She didn’t need to read the entire sordid tale of the young man again. Just the good parts.
From a long distance away, his father saw him coming, dressed as a beggar, and great compassion swelled up in his heart for his son who was returning home. So the father raced out to meet him. He swept him up in his arms, hugged him dearly, and kissed him over and over with tender love.
Dixie scrubbed her eyes. What would it be like to be so treasured? If she’d ever seen that kind of love, her life would never have taken the road it had. But hadn’t this guy’s father ever shown him love before he left? He must’ve, or the guy wouldn’t have had the nerve to return.
Then the son said, ‘Father, I was wrong. I have sinned against you. I could never deserve to be called your son. Just let me be—’
The father interrupted and said, ‘Son, you’re home now!’
What if it wasn’t Dan and the kids she’d run away from? What if it really was God? She’d made sure to stay away from any whales, just in case, but she’d made a joke about it. God probably had more ways than giant marine mammals to get someone’s attention.
For the guy in this story, it was pig slop. Ugh.
Turning to his servants, the father said, ‘Quick, bring me the best robe, my very own robe, and I will place it on his shoulders. Bring the ring, the seal of sonship, and I will put it on his finger. And bring out the best shoes you can find for my son.’
The father hadn’t held anything back, had he? That ungrateful son who’d stormed off and made a total mess of his life — much like she had — was fully restored. Dixie didn’t have to understand the robe and shoes bit to get the gist.
Now that was love. Her eyes skimmed to the next few verses.
Let’s prepare a great feast and celebrate. For this beloved son of mine was once dead, but now he’s alive again. Once he was lost, but now he is found! And everyone celebrated with overflowing joy.
It was just a wonderful, hopeful story, right? Linnea had even said so, that it was a story Jesus told. It hadn’t even happened, like ever. It was only to make a point.
Dixie thumbed through the next few chapters, skimming bits here and there. Seemed like Jesus really liked to tell stories. There were a lot of them. Her eyes caught on a few words: The Son of Man has come to seek out and to give life to those who are lost.
Son of Man? A quick search showed that to be another name for Jesus. The sentence matched up to what Dan said, that Jesus’ mission had been to bring life to those who needed it.
She might’ve laughed in Dan’s face, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t heard the words. Apparently, at least some of them had stuck.
Great. She’d cut off the one person who could answer questions about Jesus. There were others. Linnea, but she was little improvement over Dan. Fran Amato. Other Bridgeview residents, but Dixie had mostly kept her distance from the whacko religious bunch. They were all wrapped up in Dan, anyway.
Not that she wanted to hear more about Jesus. She closed the Bible app, set the phone down, and picked up the letter again.
Words like non-parent custody and no visitation and challenge this petition jumped out at her. This whole missive was full of legal jargon. She didn’t dare agree with anything unless she understood what it meant. It seemed obvious enough on the surface — Dan was booting her out of the kids’ lives and claiming full custody — but what if she missed a loophole?
What if she straightened up her life in a year or two and wanted to see the kids again? If she went along with this, was it forever? And... she stared at the far wall until it blurred. If she contemplated straightening up her life later, why not now?
A noise behind her caused her to whirl, but it was only Tanisha emerging from her bedroom. Her friend’s gaze toggled between Dixie’s face and the letter in her hand. “Thought I heard the door buzzer.”
“You did.” Dixie held up the paper. “Dan’s filing for custody.”
“Oh, hon.” Tanisha grimaced. “Don’t let him get away with that. I mean, he’s a decent guy and all, but the kids need you.”
Dixie stiffened. Not this again. “I need someone to talk to about what it all means down the road.”
“I don’t know anyone legal.”
“Yeah, me neither. Except Dan’s brother, and that’s no help.” Dixie looked back at the paper with its sprawling signature above the words Ms. S. Guthrie, Attorney at Law. “I could maybe call this office and get some info.”
Tanisha laughed. “It’ll cost you.”
Dixie didn’t have that much money, not with keeping her car going and paying Tanisha for her share of the rent. No way Mom would help. Nobody would. She didn’t have anyone waiting for her to wise up like the prodigal son did.
The snow had held off, so far, and Tony had been willing for Dan to get a head start on implementing a design proposal for a new client. Tony said he could work on menu plans on his laptop as well at the house as anywhere for a few days. Dan was going to owe his new friend big-time.
“Smells great in here.” Dan left his boots on the mat and hung his jacket before coming through to the main living area. Walking into the aroma of yeasty bread and garlic-and-tomato-laden sauce was definitely something he could get used to at the end of a long day.
“Daddy’s home!” yelled Buddy, scooting down the stairs bump, bump, bump on his backside. “Hi, Daddy!”
“Mama said he’s not your daddy.” Mandy parked her hands on her hips and glared at her brother.
“Is so.” Buddy squeezed all the circulation out of Dan’s thigh. “Right, Daddy?”
“Close enough.” Dan scooped Buddy into his arms and pulled Mandy against his side. “Hey, Mandy-girl. How was school today?”
She leaned in. “Okay. We had dance after at the church. How come Tieri’s mama goes to practice with her and mine doesn’t?”
Some questions had no answers. “I’m sorry, baby.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Do you want to show me what you practiced?”
She shook her head and pulled away before preceding him into the kitchen, where Henry sat on the floor, gnawing a crust of bread. The little guy clambered to his feet and toddled over for his own greeting. Dan hugged him, looking at Tony over his son’s head. “How was today?”
“Good.” The other man grinned and patted Mandy’s hair.
“Mr. Tony can make real bread, and he isn’t even a store!” Mandy’s eyes shone in admiration as she looked up at their houseguest. “And it’s so yummy and warm and the butter even melts on it. You should have some.”
Dan’s stomach growled even as he chuckled at Mandy’s awe. “Can’t wait.” As much as he longed for Dixie, having Tony living in was a true gift from God. Not only for the early mornings still to come, but the food! Dan was going to gain fifty pounds this winter.
“Dinner’s ready.” Tony turned off a burner. “Now, Mandy, I want your honest opinion, okay? I want to know if this dinner is the kind kids will want to order at my restaurant.”
At least Mandy was pleased with Tony’s attention. “Yes, Mr. Tony. I’m sure they will. It smells so yummy.”
“And you need to try it both ways, with noodles and zoodles. I need your advice.”
“What’s zoodles?”
“A different kind of noodles, a kind made from veggies.”
Mandy frowned but nodded. “I’ll tell you what I think.”
Dan herded the boys into the main floor bath for handwashing then back to the table. He lifted Henry into his high chair as Tony set bowls on the table. Biting her lip in concentration, Mandy carried a plate stacked with garlic toast.
Man, he was hungry. Dan issued a short prayer of thanks then scooped a meatball and some of the zucchini noodles onto Henry’s tray before dishing up for the older boy.
“Why do you make noodles out of veggies?” Mandy asked Tony.
“There are a couple of reasons.” Tony ladled food for her. “One, everybody needs more vegetables, because they help kids and grownups be s
trong and healthy. And also, because sometimes people eat so much other stuff that they don’t have room for veggies or other things that are super good for them.”
“Don’ like veggies,” announced Buddy, jamming his fork into the sauce-covered zoodles.
Dan wasn’t about to break it to him. He scooped pasta onto his plate then hesitated before adding the zoodles on top and giving the combo a twirl. Then he piled on sauce and meatballs. He could be a good example for the kids. It was enough that somebody else was cooking.
And, hey, the combo didn’t taste half bad.
“This is yummy, Mr. Tony.” Mandy set her fork down. “Kids up to age ten will like this food.”
Dan stifled a chuckle at her serious tone.
Tony nodded at the little girl. “Not eleven-year-olds, though? What should I cook for them?”
“Maybe macaroni and cheese instead. Or a different noodle.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I think you should, Mr. Tony.”
Dan stared out the patio door, struggling not to laugh out loud.
Mandy had been supremely annoyed about moving into her brothers’ bedroom to open space for Tony, but it hadn’t taken the newcomer long to win her over. Next thing Dan knew, she’d be taking all the credit for the kids’ menu at Antonio’s when it opened in spring.
“Want more.” Buddy pushed his bowl at Dan. “Please.”
“Sure thing.”
The kid hadn’t even clued in he’d been eating zucchini. Wouldn’t Dixie be shocked to see her kids inhaling vegetables?
Dan’s heart squeezed. Had she received the papers yet? Sadie had promised to keep him up-to-date, but the wait was killing him.
Was he really doing the right thing?
13
Dixie tugged her skirt straight, took a deep breath, and tapped the elevator button in the posh lobby downtown. Dawson and Banks Family Law inhabited the offices on the eleventh floor. She clutched her bright red handbag as she rode up.
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