Two Roads Home

by Raney, Deborah;

  “Oh?” Corinne didn’t like the hesitation in the Realtor’s voice.

  “They need to be in the house in three weeks. The wife is pregnant and they want to be settled before the baby comes.”

  “Three weeks? I don’t think there’s any way—”

  “We may be able to negotiate a moving fee or some other kind of help. You don’t want to throw away a buyer on account of a few days.”

  “But—what would we do in the meantime? I don’t think there’s any way we could find a house and close on it and still get everything packed and—” She didn’t even know what else to say.

  “Talk to Jesse. I’ll get back with you tonight. Meanwhile, I’ll see what I can find out from the buyers. Maybe they’re more flexible than they let on.”

  “I sure hope so.” She couldn’t hold back the groan that came.

  “Hey, don’t let it get you down. This is good news, Corinne. My other clients would trade you places in a heartbeat.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect it to go this fast. I’ll talk to Jesse and we’ll wait for your call tonight.”

  She hung up, feeling numb. “Well, that’s the end of that.” She burst into tears.

  “Corinne? What’s wrong?” Mom hurried over and sat beside her on the bench.

  When she could speak again, she tried to explain.

  “It will all work out, honey. I have no doubt.”

  “But what are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

  “You’ll find something. Even if you have to rent for a few months while you house hunt.”

  The back door opened and her dad hollered, “Audrey? Where are you guys?”

  “In here,” Mom called.

  He came into the foyer and looked between them. “What’s going on?”

  “Their house sold.”

  Dad looked to her. “Really? Already?”

  “It must have been to the first people she showed it to.” Corinne composed herself and told her dad the details she knew. “I don’t think there’s any way we can be out of there in three weeks.”

  “Sure you can. You’ve got lots of able-bodied family members who can help you get moved.”

  “Yes, but to where, Dad? We’ve been looking and there’s nothing out there right now.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Well, nothing we want to invest in.”

  “Have you looked at rentals?”

  She shook her head. She hadn’t even wanted to think about that possibility. Three little girls in an apartment? Or a small house? And rent wasn’t cheap in this college town. Landlords knew they could rent a place out to four or more students and make far more than they could renting to one family. She felt close to tears again.

  “Don’t let it get to you, honey. Everything will work out. And you know Mom and I are here for you.”

  “Da-ad.” It always made her cry harder when her father went all sweet and soft.

  “Listen,” he said, patting her back. “If worse comes to worse, you guys can stay here with us for a while.”

  “Grant!” Mom hissed. She turned to give Corinne an apologetic look for her unguarded reaction. “We . . . we’ll work something out, I’m sure.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom, we’re not going to invade you. We’ll take our house off the market if it comes to that.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to do that anyway?” Her mother looked hesitant, as if there was more she wanted to say.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just wonder if there’s some way you could keep the house. You guys have worked so hard— Never mind . . . it’s none of my business. I’m sure you haven’t made this decision lightly.”

  “Unfortunately, every penny of our savings is wrapped up in that house. Selling it is the only way Jesse could afford to go back to school. And I know that’s the right thing to do.”

  “You guys are young,” Dad said. “You’ll have plenty of time to save up for another house someday.”

  She didn’t remind him that they’d be living on a teacher’s salary once Jesse graduated. She could go back to work once the girls were all in school, but she’d begun to accept that they would likely never again live in a house as nice as their current one. She still had trouble even imagining the day they’d move out of their house. She couldn’t let herself think about it too long or she’d be a basket case.

  Still, hard as it was to let the house go, she wouldn’t trade the happy husband she’d been living with these last few days for the nicest house in Cape Girardeau. She just hoped Jesse stayed happy, because this was going to be hard.

  She rose with a sigh. “I guess I’d better get home and tell Jesse the news.”

  “You didn’t call him?” Mom said.

  She shook her head. “He’s in meetings all afternoon, and I don’t want to just leave a message.”

  “Well, yes, you’d better go then.” Mom stood and gathered up their iced tea glasses.

  “You’d better go home and start packing, is what you’d better do,” her dad said.

  “Where are you going?” Sari appeared from around the corner.

  “Nowhere, sweetie.” Corinne cast a glance at her parents, hoping they got the signal. She didn’t want to tell the girls any sooner than they had to.

  Sari tipped her head. “Then how’s come Poppa said you have to pack?”

  “I’ll explain it when we get home, sweetie. Right now we need to get your sisters rounded up.” She and Jesse hadn’t tried to hide the fact that they were putting their house on the market, but she wasn’t sure even Sari understood the implications of that.

  But neither had she and Jesse wanted to make a big deal about the changes that were coming, since no one knew for sure how it would all work out or how long it would take. She bent to speak to Sari. “Go on, now. Daddy’s going to wonder what happened to us.”

  “Nothin’ happened to us.”

  “I know. But Daddy doesn’t know that. Now run and tell Sadie and Simone to start picking up toys.”

  When Sari was out of earshot, her dad turned to her. “Not to tell you guys what to do, but I wouldn’t take the first offer you get. There are bound to be others interested. No need to sell yourselves short.”

  “I’ll pass that advice along to Jesse.”

  “Well, I’m sure you two can make your own decisions. That’s just my two cents.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I’d better run.”

  “See you Tuesday night?”

  “If we’re not packing.”

  Mom frowned. “Things surely won’t go that fast. Besides, you’ve got to eat no matter what. You may as well come where the food is.”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “By the way, do you know what you’re going to do about babysitting—once school starts? You’ll be working, right?” Mom’s attempt at casual was all too transparent.

  “I will. As soon as I can find something. But I haven’t figured out the babysitting yet.”

  “Maybe I can ask some of my friends and see if they know of anyone.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom, I’m not going to ask you to keep the girls. I wouldn’t want to drive out here every day anyway.”

  “I’m sorry, honey, but as much as I’d like to help, I just couldn’t make a habit of it. Not with the inn to run.”

  Never mind Mom had kept the twins for Landyn twice recently.

  As if she’d read her mind, Mom said, “And I know I’ve kept the twins quite a bit, but I kept your girls when they were little, too. It didn’t seem fair not to do that for Landyn just because we have the inn. But—well, I just can’t do it as often as I used to.”

  Dad cleared his throat and fidgeted with the table runner. “We’d do it in an emergency, of course.”

  “I know. And I wouldn’t ask unless it was an emergency.”

  “Landyn was working on some advertising fliers for me, too. That was one reason I offered to help with the twins.”

  Yes, and you were probably paying
her for the work too. Corinne hated the sarcastic thoughts that kept zinging through her mind. It was totally understandable that Mom would help out with the twins the way she’d helped when each of their daughters were small. It just hit her wrong to have her mom preempt a request she hadn’t even planned to make.

  She loved her mother with all her heart, but sometimes Mom got on her last nerve always trying to read her mind and give advice unasked. This whole thing was hard enough without having to fear that her parents disapproved of the decisions she and Jesse were making. She knew they were worried about her, but still . . .

  She gathered up her things and got the girls in the car, trying not to let her parents see that she was upset. Mom was impossible to fool, but if she let on, she didn’t say anything, for which Corinne was grateful. She didn’t need complications in any more of her relationships.

  20

  Jesse’s car was in the garage when Corinne pulled in twenty minutes later. She hadn’t been able to talk to him at work—a scenario that always brought unwanted thoughts of Michaela Creeve. But she pushed those away now, eager for a chance to tell him the news about the offer on their house. But not in front of the girls.

  He came from the house to help her unload the girls.

  “Thanks, babe,” she said. “How was your day? Did you get the mail?”

  “You’re welcome. My day was good. And yes, I got the mail.”

  She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I sound like Sadie, don’t I?” They’d been working on getting the chatterbox to wait for an answer to one question before she asked a dozen more.

  “Well, I didn’t want to accuse you of acting like a four-year-old, but . . .”

  The girls jabbered like quarreling squirrels, and Corinne knew she wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise, let alone tell Jesse about Betty’s call, without the girls asking a thousand questions.

  When they got in the house, Sari started to take off her shoes.

  Corinne stopped her. “I want you girls to go play outside so I can talk to Daddy. We’ll call you in when supper is on the table.”

  “But I’m hungry now,” Sadie whined.

  Corinne foraged in the fridge and came up with a bag of baby carrots. “Here. You can take these out with you for an appetizer.”

  “What’s an appetizer?” Sari asked.

  “I’ll tell you later. Now go. I can’t get a word in edgewise with you magpies jabbering.”

  “What’s a magpie?” Sadie said.

  “Go. I’ll tell you later.”

  “But—”

  “Sadie! Do what your mother said.”

  Pouting, Sadie followed her sister out the back door, arguing about who got to be in charge of the carrots.

  Jesse closed the door behind them and turned to her. “What’s up?”

  “Betty Heigel called while I was at my parents. She has an offer on the house.”

  His jaw dropped. “Are you serious? A good one?”

  She gave him the details while they started supper together.

  Jesse buttered six slices of wheat bread and laid them on the griddle in quick succession. She came along behind layering cheese on the bread and he put on the “lids,” as the girls called the second slice of buttered bread.

  “Do you want bacon on yours?”

  “Sure. That sounds good.”

  She went to the fridge and came back with a box of pre-cooked bacon.

  He waited for her to place the strips on two of the sandwiches. “So? How are you feeling about things?” He touched a finger gently to her nose, a tenderness in his voice that touched her deeply. “Now that it’s really happening . . .”

  “It makes me sad, but . . . Maybe this is God’s way of saying we’re doing the right thing?” She hadn’t intended it to come out as a question. And wished it hadn’t when Jesse looked so hopeful.

  “Do you really think so? I wish it were that easy. I don’t want to make a mistake on this, Corinne.”

  “I know. But . . . even if it was a mistake, it wouldn’t be a life and death one.” She wanted so badly to believe that. And yet, thinking about leaving this house, she just wanted things to go back to the way they’d been before Michaela Creeve had put everything in their lives off-kilter.

  Jesse flipped a sandwich over. “We’d better get those girls fed. We can talk about this more after they’re in bed.”

  “Okay. Where’d you put the mail?” It wasn’t in its usual drop spot on the island.

  “Oh . . . Sorry. I think I only made it as far as the laundry room. Look on top of the dryer. You got a couple of letters, too.”

  “Really?” The mail was usually such a dud these days. They’d gotten past the years of college friends’ engagement parties and weddings. And birth announcements all seemed to come via e-mail now. “You have everything under control?”

  “Yes, but hurry. And holler at the girls to come in first, will you?”

  She did that, then hurried to the laundry room. She riffled through the slim stack of credit card offers and coupons. With her luck, what Jesse thought was a personal letter was probably some gimmicky sales promotion. Or maybe a home sales party.

  But there were two letters. The smaller envelope bore the return address of a couple from church. That would be a thank-you for a baby shower gift. The other envelope had a Cape Girardeau postmark. Odd. It was addressed by hand—only to her—but in block letters, in childlike printing. Probably a birthday party invitation for one of the girls. But why would they have addressed it only to her?

  She turned the envelope over. There was no return address. She opened the flap to find a smaller envelope within the outer one. It was rather late in the season for a graduation announcement. But who did they know that was getting married?

  She slid the second envelope out and unsealed it. A plain white folded card was inside. She opened it and a piece of ribbon slipped to the floor. Lime green ribbon. Her breath caught. She left the ribbon on the floor and read the message in the card.

  Just thought you might have been missing this. May she wear it in good health.

  21

  Jesse stared at the green ribbon in Corinne’s hand and anger boiled up inside him. “Let me see that.” He reached for the envelope she was holding and turned it over in his hand, then read the cryptic unsigned note on the card. The printed block letters looked as if they had been purposely written to disguise the sender’s handwriting.

  “It had to be her, Jesse. No one else could have known about this! Sadie was telling the truth.” Panic made her voice thin and taut.

  But Corinne was right. Michaela was the only person who could have done this. And even though it still made him sick to think about the whole mess with her becoming public, between this and the pink blanket he’d seen in Michaela’s vehicle, he was completely convinced that this crossed the line from stalking to threatening. “I’m taking this to Frank.”

  “Jesse . . . I think this has gone way beyond that. We need to call the police. I’m afraid to let our daughters play in our own backyard!” She glanced outside again.

  The girls’ voices carried through the open window, but he saw fear in Corinne’s eyes. And felt it himself. He didn’t want to think Michaela would actually harm another person, but this woman was disturbed. Seriously—mentally—disturbed.

  “I don’t know if we have enough proof that they would do anything about it, but—”

  “What more proof do they need?” She snatched the ribbon from his hand and waved it in front of his face. “I want a restraining order on her. I want her out of my life, Jesse! Our lives . . . This is ridiculous!”

  “Babe . . .” He tried to put an arm around her, but she shrugged him off.

  He took a step back, scrambling to think what they should do. “Let’s get the girls inside and feed them some supper. If you’ll do that, I’ll call the police and see what our next step should be.”

  That seemed to pacify Corinne. She went to call the girls in,
and he went back to his office and searched for a phone number to call the Cape Girardeau police. He dialed the first number from the confusing list on the city website and was quickly rerouted.

  “This isn’t exactly an emergency . . . at least I don’t believe it is, but I think we need to report an . . . incident.” He explained what had happened with the missive containing Simone’s hair ribbon. But as he answered the female dispatcher’s questions, the story seemed far-fetched and convoluted to his own ears. “This woman has accused me of harassment in the past.”

  “I can send an officer to your home right away if you think that’s needed.”

  “No.” His refusal came out with more force than he’d intended. “Maybe it would be better for me . . . my wife and me . . . to come to your office tomorrow. I don’t want to upset our daughters by having the police here.” That was true, but more importantly, he did not want the neighbors to see a police car in front of their home. Especially when they were trying to sell it.

  “That’s your decision,” the dispatcher said. “But if you think your family could be in danger, I wouldn’t hesitate to talk to an officer about it.”

  “Thank you. We’ll probably come in tomorrow. Do we need . . . an appointment?”

  She told him the address and department, and who they should ask for.

  He hung up the phone and sat at his desk in stunned silence. How had it gotten to this? Could he have avoided this disaster if he’d never spoken to Michaela? If he’d never flirted with her. The thought stopped him short. He’d truly not intended the mild flirtation to lead to anything. But he suddenly saw more clearly now. He had enjoyed her attention. And if he were honest, he’d encouraged it. Never in a way that anyone could have labeled “harassment” or even inappropriate—by the world’s standards anyway.

  But he didn’t live by the world’s standards. At least he claimed he didn’t.

  He put his head in his hands. “God . . . Forgive me. I’ve been trying so hard to look innocent in this situation. To be innocent. But I know I have to take some of the blame. For egging Michaela on. For not putting a stop to things sooner. I confess, God . . . I enjoyed her attention. It made me feel good. But I never meant for it to—” Cut it out, Pennington. No more excuses. He had to start being completely honest. With himself. And with Corinne.