“I didn’t say that. I just said, ‘What if?’ I guess I can stand your presence for the five minutes it takes to drive home.”
He nodded and before she could argue, took her purse and bowling bag from her hands. “I’ve got these.”
They got in the car, and she started the engine. The radio was blaring a local oldies station, and she twirled the volume dial down to silent. “Sorry.”
He grinned. “Same old Tilly. You always did like your music loud, much to the frustration of our old neighbors.”
She couldn’t help but smile as she pulled out of the parking lot. “It wasn’t my fault that old duplex had paper thin walls.”
“Professional soundproofing couldn’t have muted your music, baby.”
The cutesy nickname shook her from the memory and reminded her she was trying to stay away from her husband, not travel down memory lane. “Well, anyway, I’m trying to cut back. Old age and bad hearing, ya know?”
“You are not old. If you’re old, that means I’m old, and I refuse to believe it.”
“You’re right. You turned forty, what, six months ago? You’re ancient compared to me, sorry to tell you, old man.”
The laugh that erupted from his lungs sounded good. Too good. Too much like old times, like normal.
Beth's words echoed in her head.
Suddenly, the conclusion that seemed so clear all week dimmed.
Maybe they could forget about the last eighteen years. Start back and settle into normal again. Maybe he was ready to dig in roots and stop gallivanting across the United States.
They could grow old and gray together. Maybe it was too late to have kids, but they could be an expert surrogate aunt and uncle to Maddie’s twins.
It wouldn’t happen overnight.
But maybe—maybe she’d been fighting this all along when God wanted to heal her marriage.
Thoughts swirled in all directions as anticipation swelled in her stomach. Adam had turned quiet beside her, his gaze out the window as she turned onto their street.
As she drove, she formulated a plan. She couldn’t just say, “Hey husband. I changed my mind. I’ll forgive you and be your wife after all.” Well, she could, but she wouldn’t.
Maybe she could start by not ignoring him. By laughing with him sometimes. She'd make coffee for him in the morning, or even breakfast. She worked most evenings, so a “family dinner” wasn’t in the cards. But going to church together, actually sitting with him—
Hope that had been long dormant blossomed in her chest. It could work. It would only cost a heap of her pride, but for a stable future? It was worth it.
Their kiss the other night flitted in her memory. It wouldn’t be too hard—
“Tilly?”
She pushed her scandalous thoughts away and cleared her throat. “Yes?”
"Reuben called today and invited us to spend Thanksgiving with his family. I told him I'd talk to you about it first."
Thanksgiving? Wow, she'd been so consumed with things lately, she hadn't realize the holiday had snuck up on them.
She'd always spent Thanksgiving alone, refusing invitations, except the one or two years her mom had come back to Sandwich to visit. The thought of spending the holiday with Adam—
Maybe that was a good first step. Jitters danced in her middle as she nodded. "That sounds nice."
A smile tugged at his lips. "Good. I wasn't sure if—Tilly?"
"Hm?"
“Something’s wrong. Look.” He pointed out the window to the intersection up ahead.
In the distance, a police car was blocking the road and an officer was directing traffic down a side street. “I wonder what’s happening.”
She rolled down the window as they pulled closer, and a police officer walked toward them. She recognized him as Joe Cantor, a regular at the Emporium. “Joe, what’s going on?”
The officer came closer, his brow furrowed and eyes almost sympathetic. “I’m afraid it’s not good, Tilly.”
She blinked. “Is everyone okay? Can we get to our house or do we need to wait?”
He shook his head, empathy in his eyes. “It’s your house, Tilly. It’s on fire.”
Twelve
The stench of burning wood lingered in the air like a dense, smoky fog, making Adam want to gag. The sight that met them as they drove up was total devastation.
Adam held a firm hand to Tilly’s arm as he helped her out of the car, finally having been given clearance by the fire chief to come see the damage.
Tilly swayed beside him, but he tucked her into the crutch of his arm, supporting her weight.
The white clapboard house was now black, the wood siding charred completely with only small specks of white peeking out from the partially collapsed walls. The detached garage still stood, its siding singed a smoky gray.
A man wearing a full fireman’s suit walked up to them. “I’m sorry for your loss, folks. There wasn’t much we could do once we got here. It was already engulfed in flames. It’ll take a while to get an official report, but from what I can tell, looks like there was an electrical short in one of the kitchen walls, not uncommon for old houses like these. We have the fire out, but the building sustained too much damage to allow you in there. None of the walls are safe at this point. We’ll get out any belongings that happened to survive the blaze, but I’m not hopeful there’ll be much.”
A shudder wracked Tilly’s body, and Adam put his other arm around her and held her against his chest.
His own emotions clung to his throat, so he only nodded.
Tilly’s whole world was in that house. And a good portion of his was too.
He rubbed his wife’s back as she sobbed against his chest. Putting his lips to her ear, he whispered, “It’s gonna be okay.”
Her tears only deepened into sorrowful sobs.
Not knowing what else to do, he closed his eyes and prayed silently as she cried. Jesus, I have no idea why you let this happen, but I know you're greater than this fire and your plans are broader than we could ever know. Please wrap your arms around my wife’s heart. She’s hurting, and I don’t know how to make this better. I can’t fix this. I don’t know what to do.
Fixing things was what he was best at. Pregnancies gone wrong. Sick babies. He wanted to make them all better.
But he couldn’t fix everything.
And he knew better than most, having watched more than a few babies leave this world before they had officially entered it, that God didn’t always fix things like Adam wanted him to either.
Most days he grasped onto the faith that God was bigger than whatever this world threw at them.
But in moments like this, it felt like all hope was lost, that God was sitting up in heaven, chomping on popcorn, watching this crazy mess in the world play out.
I’m here, Adam.
The simple words spoken to his heart brought a sprinkle of hope, as did another fireman, his thick, yellow uniform covered in soot, coming toward them carrying a familiar box.
“I was looking for hot spots and found this in a closet. Somehow it didn’t catch on fire, so I thought you might want to take it with you.”
Tilly pushed away from him gently, leaving his chest feeling cold and wet and his arms empty. “Let me see.”
She grabbed the box from the fireman and opened the top, tears still streaming down her puffy, red cheeks. “It’s—it’s your box, Adam.”
He stepped beside her, willing his own tears to stay in check. “Our box, Tilly. These are our memories, not mine.”
Closing the box, she nodded. “I just—I don’t know what to do.”
A car pulled up then, and Maddie got out of the passenger side and waddled as fast as she could to them. “Oh my goodness, Tilly, come here. I’m so sorry.” She pulled Tilly into an awkward hug, Maddie's belly pressed between them.
Reuben strode up, shaking his head. “Man, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.”
Adam accepted his half handshake-half hug and looked
backed toward the charred house. “It’s just so—final. That house has been in Tilly’s family for years and held a lot of memories.”
Reuben nodded. “Fire can only destroy things, Adam. Memories will last you a lot longer.”
Maddie set Tilly back and patted her arms. “You two are staying with us tonight, and for as long as you need. I won’t hear an argument or anything about a hotel, you hear me?”
Tilly blotted her eyes with her fingers. "But, we need to—"
Adam stretched an arm around her again and squeezed. "We'll call the insurance company tomorrow and figure out what to do next. Right now, you need some rest."
She sniffled and nodded.
As he helped her into the car, he took one final look at the house that he’d hoped would be a real home soon.
My ways are not your ways, Adam Davis.
Never in his life had that fact been more glaringly true.
***
Odd how only hours early, she’d been contemplating making nice to her husband in order to recapture normal.
Now, it was eleven at night and normal was a distant, laughable memory she wasn’t sure could ever be resuscitated.
Adam stood across from Tilly, his arms crossed his chest. “Are you sure?”
Nerves waged war with desire as she stared at Maddie and Rueben's guest bed then across the mattress at Adam who stood on the other side, clad in a borrowed T-shirt and flannel pants.
She hadn't shared a bed with a man since Adam had left, and seeing him standing there, looking so sexy it hurt, made it difficult to think.
Her house had just burnt down.
How could she even be thinking about sleeping with her husband?
Yet, part of her wished Adam would hold her just one more time, like he had when they first saw the remains of their house.
Then again, would he see that as an invitation for more?
No, she wasn't ready for that.
She wanted to toss a pillow to him and ask him to take the couch in the living room like he'd offered, but the only thing worse than sharing a bed with her husband at this moment was broadcasting to her best friend that she was not sharing a bed with her husband.
The topic had never come up, and while she’d assumed Maddie had known that, when they were given the room, a change of clothes, and left to themselves, there was no way Tilly was going to complain about the arrangements or vocalize the truth.
“If you'll stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine. Okay?”
He nodded, turned down the bed, and hopped in.
She did the same, but quickly scooted away from him, hugging the edge of the bed. Even at a distance, she could still feel the heat radiating from him.
The mattress shifted. “You know, you’re going to fall off in the middle of the night if you lay like that.”
The floor almost sounded preferable to trying not to move all night, and oh good grief. A whiff of his spicy aftershave already lingered in the air, taunting her nose.
The quicker she went to sleep, the quicker she could get up and remain at a safe, able-to-think distance. She chose to ignore him and turned off the bedside table lamp. “Good night, Adam.”
Silence permeated the room, interrupted only by the unfamiliar sounds of a house that was not her own.
The mattress and covers shifted, and Adam's voice whispered across the bed. “I’m sorry, Tilly.”
She closed her eyes at his low, soothing voice, hoping she could go to sleep and wake up in her own bed, finding this was just a terrible nightmare. The blackened remains of her family home still flashed in her mind, relentless in their torture. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t start the fire.” She paused. “Right?”
The bed lurched, and she could feel his presence somewhere above her. “How could you even ask that?”
The indignation in his voice brought immediate guilt. She turned and looked at him. The moonlight from the window outlined him sitting up in bed, turned toward her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It’s been a long night and my brain isn't working right.”
He laid back down on his side, facing her. “That home meant everything to you, and even though you might not believe it, it meant a lot to me too.”
“Because it was the only excuse you had to live with me.” Even as the words escaped her lips, they echoed false. The Adam she'd seen since he'd been back was not the kind of guy that used women.
But suddenly, her reasons she'd been contemplating to get back together with her husband dripped of selfishness. She wanted normal. She wanted stability. She wanted her husband back, but on her terms only.
His sigh disturbed otherwise quiet room. “No. Because it belonged to the woman I love.”
"How do you know that, Adam? What if you just love what we were eighteen years ago? I'm not that same girl."
“And I'm not that same guy. But I never stopped loving you, Til-girl.”
“Then why did you leave?” She whispered the question before she could take it back. She was determined to let the past stay there, but she couldn’t help but ask it.
He was quiet for several seconds before responding, his voice thick with emotion. “You know, I’ve told myself for years that my leaving was justified. I wanted to make a better life for you, for us. I had grand dreams of coming back for you, finally a success. But by the time I was through school, it felt too late. You had your life, and I had mine, on top of a mound of student loan debt. I always had an excuse, but honestly? I was afraid to admit I’d been wrong.
“But the more I think about it, the more I want to kick myself. I won’t lie. I still think going to college and making a future for us was a good thing. But I shouldn’t have left you behind. I gave up on you instead of fighting for you, and that was dead wrong. I won’t do it again, Tilly. I left you once, and I’ve regretted it every single day since. I’m here to stay, house or no house, and I’ll fight till my last breath to make you mine again.”
She twisted from her back to her side to face him. Her brain felt like mush, unable to comprehend much. She’d lost everything, or so she’d thought until this moment.
Maybe, just maybe, she’d been wrong all these years.
Because suddenly, faced with a man who was willing to give up everything to be with her, her house—even this town—didn’t feel like everything anymore.
In fact, it all felt pretty inconsequential, and she felt like the most selfish jerk on the planet.
Finding her voice, she asked the only question still burning in her heart. “What made you want to fight for me? You’ve had eighteen years to change your mind. Why now?”
His hand reached out across the sheets and felt around until it found hers and squeezed. “There isn’t really a nice way to tell you this, and this is probably not the time after everything that happened today but—” His gaze searched her face.
Dread tiptoed up her spine. She had to know. “What, Adam? Please, tell me. You owe me that.”
He nodded, his throat bobbing up and down in a gulp. “A year ago, I started having dizzy spells. I ignored the first couple, until I had one while I was in clinic with a patient. I had it checked out and—they found a brain tumor.”
Thirteen
Blood pounded in her ears as she snatched away her hand, sat up, and turned on the bedside lamp. She squinted against the bright light. “What did you just say?”
Adam sat up against the headboard and rubbed a hand behind his neck. “They found a tumor at the base of my skull. It was fairly large and malignant.”
Tilly shook her head, not able to comprehend. “What do you mean? You had—”
“Cancer, Tilly. I had brain cancer.”
Shoving aside the covers, she burst out of bed and pacing the floor, her thoughts firing off all at once, nothing making sense. “But…you seem fine. Why are you here? You should be in a hospital. You could be dying, Adam. We have to get you to the hospital.” She stopped at the dresser and grabbed her phone. “We’ll call an ambulance. The
y’ll know what to do. I can’t—No. No. No. You can’t do this to me, Adam.”
He walked to her faster than she could blink an eye. He took her phone from her hands and placed her head to his shoulder, his hand rubbing her back. “It’s fine, Tilly. I’m fine. They did surgery and removed the tumor, and threw in some chemo for good measure afterward. All scans have come back negative for cancer since then. I was lucky. We caught it before it spread.”
He was watering it down for her, she could tell. All the sudden, she ached to be there a year ago. To have been able to stand beside him and hold his hand while he got the news. To discuss treatments and support him how a good wife should.
She'd missed all that.
Because she'd been unwilling to leave the safety of a town.
After justifying her actions for eighteen long years, for the first time, they sounded ridiculous, even to her own ears.
Adam pulled her back and put a hand on each side of her face, bringing her gaze to his. “But it was a slap of reality for me, Til-girl. My whole, miserable life was laying before me, stark as day, and I knew I’d made the stupidest mistake on earth. No career, no amount of money or fame in the world is worth losing the woman I love. And that is you, honey. It always has been and always will be.”
His words soaked into her heart, warming sections that had been frozen off long ago. She blinked away tears and took a deep breath. “So you aren’t dying?”
“We’re all dying someday. It’s just a question of when. But no, not in the immediate future. What I want, though, is to know I can spend the rest of my days, no matter how many of them I have, with the woman I’m madly in love with. My wife.”
Tilly closed her eyes. Two paths stretched before her. One was lonely and cold and straight. Boring, predictable and—normal. She could rent an apartment. Continue with her job and bowling and work with the church. Steady. Easy.
The other was narrow and winding, with the hope of a partner for the journey.
Choose, Tilly.
Her eyes fluttered open, and the man in front of her gazed at her, hope and yearning filling his eyes.
A Side of Faith, Hope and Love: The Sandwich Romance Novella Collection Page 18