The doors opened onto a glass and chrome reception room, and an elegant woman glanced up from behind the desk. Her blond hair was pulled into a formal updo above a flawless face. She pushed rhinestone-studded glasses up, as her mouth, rimmed with matte lipstick in a coral tone so deep it neared copper, opened to speak.
Dixie stared. She figured she was on-trend, but more money kicked fashion up a notch. She felt like a tramp pretending to be someone greater.
Because she was.
The elevator doors began to swish shut, but Dixie pressed her hand against the edge to stop them, her gaze never leaving the receptionist.
This was a mistake — a horrible mistake — but she was used to making those, and she was here now. That woman had been staring at her long enough to pick her out of a police lineup, so she might as well state her case and flee. If Dan could afford this firm, Dixie didn’t stand a chance. She didn’t, anyway, so what did it matter?
The automatic doors made another effort to close.
Dixie took a deep breath and strode toward the desk, her thigh-high boots clicking on the marble floor.
The woman rose at her approach, and a smile softened her face. “May I help you?”
Dixie glanced at the name — Ms. H. Simmons — etched on the chrome nameplate. “Hi, I’m Dixie Wayling, and I’d like to speak with Ms. Guthrie.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Um, no, but I just need a minute.” Any bravado Dixie had managed to muster was long gone.
“I’m sorry, but Ms. Guthrie is fully booked today; neither is she taking on new clients at this time.”
Dixie shifted the straps of her red purse on her shoulder. “Okay. I’m sure I can’t afford her, anyway. This was a mistake.” She backed up two steps. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
“Ms. Wayling, the State of Washington has resources for anyone who needs a lawyer but cannot afford one.” Ms. Simmons plucked a pamphlet out of a rack on her desk. “Give this number a call and see what they can do.”
Dixie stared at the paper. “It probably won’t make a difference. I blew any chance I had already, and my ex is filing for custody of the kids.” She blinked back a tear. “With the help of Ms. Guthrie.”
“Ms. Wayling.”
She looked up. Wait, was the older woman actually showing sympathy? More likely she was shocked by how pathetic Dixie was.
“Perhaps you might seek counseling?” Ms. Simmons still held the leaflet out. “Washington Law Help may be able to assist you with personal counsel as well as legal.”
Dixie huffed a sigh, ending on a near sob. “I don’t know. It’s probably too late. I don’t know what to do.”
“Try. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Dixie took the pamphlet, if only so the receptionist wouldn’t feel obligated to extend it forever. She tried for a smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome, Ms. Wayling.”
Ms. Simmons probably knew all about the letter. She’d probably written it, held it out for the lawyer to sign, then sealed it and ordered the courier.
Dixie searched the older woman’s eyes. The gaze was steady. Sympathetic. Dixie nodded and broke the connection as she turned away. It took a minute for the elevator car to arrive, but Dixie didn’t look back. She managed to press the lobby button without making eye contact with the receptionist again. When the doors finally closed, she sagged against the wall and closed her eyes.
What a mess she’d made. She could blame her mom all she wanted, but she’d made her own choices. She couldn’t blame Brandon or Scott or Dan, either. Dan least of all. Sure, he’d grown up in a two-parent household, but his home life had been a mess just the same. He’d earned an honest living selling used cars then stepped back into the family business without holding a grudge against his bully of a father. Dixie had made her choices. So had Dan, but he’d faced his like an adult, where Dixie had hugged her selfishness tighter as she ran.
She exited the building and sat on a bench outside. What were her options? If she even had any.
The kids needed Dan. He’d be their anchor, be a better parent than Dave Senior or Yvonne or Dixie’s mom. Better than Dixie, for sure. But Tanisha’s and Billie’s words wouldn’t leave her mind. They both agreed how messed up their mothers’ rejections had made them.
Could she do that to Mandy and Buddy and Henry?
She already had.
But was it permanent? The official letter full of legalese sounded like it. If that thing went through, it would all be over.
Dixie fingered the pamphlet the receptionist had given her. If she started working with these people, she had to change. She couldn’t keep being Dixie Wayling, the woman who refused responsibility, rejected rescue, and ran from her problems.
How did a person do that, anyway? Just up and decide to be someone different?
God doesn’t care about your past. Dan’s earnest face materialized in her mind. He’s ready to forgive you and welcome you into His family. He did it for me, and He wants to do it for you. You just have to ask.
That sounded all too simplistic, really. Why would God wave His magic wand for her? What had she ever done for Him? Nothing. Dan had been a good guy before he found Jesus. No wonder Jesus welcomed him in. So, Dixie needed to figure out how to be a good person. A worthy person. Someone God could forgive and smile kindly on, like the father of the prodigal son. They’d already been related before the story started, so of course the father would be happy to see him.
Just like Dixie would always love her own kids, no matter what they did, just because they were her kids. Even if she had to leave them to give them a better life... but was she actually accomplishing that?
She rubbed her temples. The panicking thoughts swirled in ever-deepening spirals. She needed an off-ramp in the worst way, and she needed it now if she were to make the best possible decision for the kids. Should she just let Dan claim them? Or should she fight back?
Calling the number on the pamphlet was a good first step. At least, she’d be able to see what her options were.
If she had any left.
Peter wandered into the kitchen to taste-test Tony’s latest creation while Sadie settled into the armchair across from Dan.
“Has there been any word?” Dan hated that he couldn’t keep the pleading out of his voice, but this mess with Dixie was tearing him apart.
“Not officially.” Sadie studied him. “She has one week to respond. That’s what I stated in the letter, which was delivered at three-twelve yesterday afternoon according to the courier stamp.”
A week. He was going to be stark raving mad in seven days. This whole thing was such a wreck. He didn’t want to parent without Dixie. He wanted her at his side as his wife, his partner in every way. But she resisted at every turn, and he’d been forced into a corner.
“Unofficially, however...”
His gaze riveted back on Sadie’s, hope bubbling. “Yes?”
“She came by the office today and talked to Hazel at the reception desk.”
Dan waited.
“I’ll admit to eavesdropping from just inside my office. She sounded... Dan, I hate to ask, but do you think she’d do anything drastic?”
“Drastic?” His mind swung to Sadie’s meaning. No.
“She sounded so bleak when she said it was all too late, it was all I could do not to run out there. Maybe I should have, but Hazel seemed to be handling her fine, offering her resources. I couldn’t have done much else, not in a professional capacity.”
Dan shook his head. “Her mood swings can get pretty volatile, but I’ve never considered her suicidal. I’m no expert, though.”
“Are you keeping in touch with her?”
“I text her every day. Tell her something the kids have done.” He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t be doing that. As my legal counsel, should I stop?”
“I’m not going to insist, but do think about whether you’re givi
ng her tools she could use against you. She knows Mandy is at the church after school on Tuesdays, for instance. Might she show up there?”
“Fran wouldn’t let Dixie take her. She knows enough of what’s going on, as she’s still involved in the boys’ care.”
“Right, and Dixie knows that, too. My concern is that she knows too much of how to get to the children. To get you where it hurts.”
“She wouldn’t.” Would she? He couldn’t think it of her. But then, she’d taken Mandy at Thanksgiving, even if she’d thought better of it within minutes.
“Don’t let love blind you, Dan.”
He pulled to his feet and paced to the window, where soft, gentle snowflakes were floating. He’d have to check throughout the night to determine if enough accumulated to warrant getting the Bobcats out. But first, Sadie.
Dan turned back to his friend. “I don’t know what else to do. My sister’s been in touch with Dixie, too. They spoke once, but Dixie’s blocked Linnea’s calls ever since. She’s back in the bar scene, back to working nights at Kristoff’s, back with our old friends. That’s how I found where she’s at, through Jared and Billie. Jared was sympathetic, but what can he do? And none of them are believers. Their advice to her is based on their experience outside of faith.”
“Letting go is so hard.”
“You’re telling me.”
The two cousins’ deep laughter erupted from the kitchen as the aroma of something like doughnuts and honey swirled toward him. Tony had mentioned making struffoli tonight. The guy was a godsend. Dan should be taking a cooking lesson or two while he had a master chef living in his house.
Sadie grimaced as she glanced toward the kitchen. Right, she was on some kind of sugar-free diet. That didn’t bode well for whatever Tony and Peter were cooking up at the moment. “So,” she said. “If I hear anything before next Tuesday, I’ll let you know.”
“That’s all I can ask. We need to watch out for Eunice — Dixie’s mom — too. A woman matching her description came by the house today, but Tony didn’t open the door. I don’t know what she wants with me or the kids. She’s made no secret she despises me and thinks the kids are a drag on Dixie’s life. I’d think she’d be happy with the current situation.”
“As happy as a bitter woman like her can be?”
“I guess. The school knows not to let anyone but Fran or me pick up Mandy. She used to walk home with Violet Sheridan, but I can’t risk that right now. I don’t know if you know Violet, but she made a bit of a stink. She’s only nine — definitely not big enough to protect Mandy, but I didn’t want to explain why. I told the kids it was because of the colder weather, and Violet said it wasn’t that cold.” Dan shook his head. “She’s right, of course.”
Sadie chuckled. “Reason doesn’t work on Violet, anyway. She’s quite the kid.”
“Seems like. Oh, and Rebekah Roper is meeting with Mandy at Bridgeview Elementary, too. She’s the school counselor.”
“And your neighbor,” pointed out Sadie.
“Right. But we’re doing this by the book.”
“Except for you texting Dixie.”
He spread his hands. “Am I supposed to cut off all contact?”
Sadie met his gaze. “It might be best. If you’re asking for my official advice, that would be my suggestion.”
Dan turned back to the window. Could he really give up all communication with Dixie? She rarely texted him back. When she did, it was a simple answer like cool or nice. Nothing to say how she felt or what she was doing or if she missed him or the kids.
Lord, what do I do?
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. But maybe it was the first time he didn’t assume he knew best. Handing his hopes, his dreams, his desires over to the Lord and leaving them there would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
Was God asking him to cut Dixie off, or was that just Sadie Guthrie, Attorney at Law, speaking?
14
Dixie hadn’t stepped foot in Bridgeview for three weeks, and never in the doors of the white clapboard church. She studied the building from the safety of her car. There’d been enough snow overnight that someone had plowed the parking area and shoveled the sidewalks. Dan, maybe? She had no idea if he had this contract. A year ago, there was no way he’d have submitted a bid to a church. So much had changed.
Like Dixie entering a house of worship. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though. When she’d seen the name Juanita Ramirez in the list of available counselors, it had sounded familiar enough for her to check it out. Seemed the woman was, indeed, the pastor’s wife that Dan had talked about.
Maybe she should rethink. Maybe it would be a better idea to bare her soul to someone with no preconceived opinions about her tangled mess. On the other side, it was a shortcut, and a pastor’s wife should be able to tell her how to become good enough for Dan and for God. She kept reading that story over and over until she wanted that kind of end result for herself. And everyone celebrated with overflowing joy.
Of course, it might not be possible. She might not have run off with her inheritance — as if there’d be anything when her mom kicked the bucket — or eaten pig swill, but she still felt for the guy where it talked about his binge of extravagant and reckless living.
Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.
Dixie shoved her car door open and stepped into the cold December wind. She tugged her jacket tighter, grabbed her purse, and headed to the side door. Inside the building, warmth greeted her in a small lobby. A carved nativity scene sat on a golden tablecloth, surrounded by pine cones and several squat pillar candles with flickering flames. The aromas of cinnamon and ginger mixed with the pine infiltrated the air, and orchestral Christmas music flowed from hidden speakers.
Christmas. It was just a week away. There was no Christmas tree in Dixie’s life. No wrapped gifts, no iced cookies, no small faces lit with wonder. She swallowed hard.
“Dixie?” A small Latina woman stood in a doorway across the space. “I’m Juanita. Come on in. May I pour you some coffee or tea?”
“Tea would be nice. Thank you.” Dixie followed Juanita into the welcoming room with two comfortable armchairs. A family portrait, surrounded by framed children’s artwork adorned the walls. While Juanita fixed the tea, Dixie examined the photo. “You have a lovely family.” Her voice choked on the words.
“God has blessed Tomas and me beyond measure,” Juanita answered, setting two teacups on the round table between the armchairs. She moved to stand beside Dixie. “Sabrina is our eldest. She’s nine. Then Emmanuel — Manny — who’s seven. And our baby, Isaac, who’s two.” She angled a look toward Dixie. “You also have a girl and then two boys, right?”
Dixie nodded, tears blinding her. “You probably know them.”
“I’ve seen them with Dan, yes. Your Mandy is a lovely little lady, a born dancer. I’ve popped in to watch the practices a few times, since my son is in the group, too. Mandy has natural grace.”
“She... she’s amazing. I guess that’s why I’m here. I don’t deserve to be her mother, but I want to be.” Dixie gestured toward the family portrait. “You seem to have it together. Can you tell me how?”
“May I ask God’s guidance in our talk today?”
“Okay.”
It definitely wasn’t peace that settled over Dixie as the woman prayed out loud. Instead, it might have been a yearning. All she knew was that it was going to get mighty uncomfortable before it got better. If it ever did.
Dan tapped on the door of his parents’ house then entered. He set Henry down and unzipped the tyke’s jacket while Buddy kicked off his boots.
“Daniel.” Dad leaned against the arch that led to the living room.
“Hi, Dad.” He turned to the boys. “Play nicely while I talk to Grandpa.”
Buddy nodded. “Come, Henry. I share cars.” Then he ran toward the basket in the living room with his little brother toddling behind him.
Dad’s chin jerked toward the kitchen.
“Pour yourself a coffee.”
“Thanks. Will do.” There’d been several three a.m. mornings in a row. Took a lot of caffeine to keep a guy going, even when he crashed asleep as soon as he’d tucked the kids in at night.
“How’re things? The business?”
“Good. If the almanac is right and we get a lot of snow this winter, I’ll be turning contracts away.”
“Buy another Bobcat.”
“Then I need another experienced operator, and I don’t know anyone looking for work.” Nor did he want the added debt when life was so uncertain.
“I could fill in some.”
Dan chuckled and took a sip of his black coffee. “Mom told me not to let you.”
Dad’s chest puffed out. “She’s not the boss of me. I’ll work if I want to.”
“I appreciate having you on standby in case someone calls in sick. I’d rather keep our current clients happy than add more.”
“You need to think bigger.”
“Running three is enough. We can keep them busy all summer, too. Another one would spend too much time idle.”
Dad huffed.
Must be hard to give up the reins to something a man had built. Dan softened his voice. “With Linnea and Logan returning in April, we’ll expand in landscape design. More money. Less risk.”
“They won’t be repeat customers. Design a yard, and it’s over. Especially the way your sister is talking with natural grasses and such. Where’s the maintenance contracts with that?”
“There’ll be plenty. I get emails and calls every week looking for more information on our new greener policies.”
Dad snorted. “Every week? Big whoopedy-do. You know most of those won’t come through. Phone calls don’t amount to a hill of beans.”
“Good thing,” Dan said mildly. “Or I’d need to be ten guys. But it’s early winter, coming on Christmas, and folks are busy with other things. It’ll pick up in the new year. You’ll see.”
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