Two Roads Home

by Raney, Deborah;

  He forced a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll make up for lost time once the fall season kicks in. Who knows what Frank’s got up his sleeve.” His words felt disingenuous—because they were. But he couldn’t very well tell Larry that he suspected that Frank—despite his words to the contrary—had let him off the hook for this trip because of Michaela. Whether by design or not, he appreciated the fact that his boss hadn’t scheduled him to travel with Michaela and had sent her on the road, insuring they had as little time in the office together as possible. He’d managed to avoid her since her little stunt with mailing Simone’s hair ribbon to Corinne.

  Or maybe Michaela was avoiding him? That seemed more likely, since it seemed she usually went out of her way to run into him if she wanted to. Maybe that fact was evidence of her guilt. Either way, if she was guilty, she’d gone to great lengths to see to it that they couldn’t level any accusations without opening a gigantic can of worms.

  Thankfully, he was just biding his time here until he could give his notice. He’d do that a month from now. And in six weeks school would start. In fact, as of today, July 1, he could start telling himself, just gut it out till next month, Pennington. You can do that.

  “So, do you think Frank is going to drop Ferreman?”

  Jesse was grateful for the change of subject, but he couldn’t speculate about the distributor Larry had named. He made an excuse and hurried from the break room.

  When he got back up to his office, Frank Preston was there, leaning on Jesse’s desk, pretending to study a sales chart that Jesse knew for a fact the man had memorized.

  “Frank. Hi. Sorry . . . I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” He held up his coffee cup as if to explain where he was, then checked his watch. “We didn’t have an appointment, I hope?”

  “No. No, and I just got here. Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” He indicated the chair in front of his desk, then spotted the stack of files he’d piled there this morning. He whisked them onto the bookcase. “Have a seat.”

  Frank sat, and Jesse went around to his desk chair and settled in, curious about the reason for his boss’s visit. Maybe Michaela had finally gone through with her threat and filed an official complaint. He realized that what had once struck terror in him would now feel a little like relief. He’d talked briefly with Jim Houser, an attorney at their church, who’d put his mind somewhat at ease. Jim reminded Jesse that he had a right to defend himself against any charges, and had suggested Jesse could even try to beat Michaela to the punch and file his own harassment charges against her. What she’d done was equally discriminatory according to the definitions of the law.

  But neither he nor Corinne wanted to go that route if they didn’t have to. That would guarantee a messy, public trial, and no guarantee they’d win. Unless things escalated, they weren’t willing to take such a drastic step.

  It had given Corinne some comfort just to know they had Jim Houser in their pocket if they needed an attorney. But it seemed that their best hope was to wait it out and pray that things quietly went away, and that ultimately the statute of limitations—one hundred eighty days—ran out before Michaela changed her mind about filing. That would happen around Thanksgiving. And boy, would they have a lot to be thankful for this year if they made it that far.

  Frank glanced over his shoulder into the hallway. “Mind if I shut the door?”

  “No. Sure.”

  Frank pushed the door closed, sat forward on the chair, and without preamble said, “I have an offer to make you.” He eyed Jesse as if he should know what this was about—and be responding.

  “An offer?”

  “This whole thing with Michaela Creeve is complicating things. I’ve managed to keep her on the road and keep you in the office, but—”

  “And I appreciate that, Frank. I really do.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t thank me too soon. I can’t orchestrate things around you two forever.”

  Jesse held up a hand. “I know. I realize that.” He should tell Frank about his plans now. How could he not? He’d been given the perfect opening. But they were counting on this last six weeks of pay to get through the summer. If Frank let him go on the spot—which he very well might—it would mean Corinne would have to find work immediately. Him too, and they hadn’t lined up daycare. Not to mention the move. As it was, if they took Dallas and Danae up on their offer, the move was all going to fall on Corinne.

  “Here’s what I propose,” Frank said, sitting straighter. “I can’t offer you a promotion—a raise, I mean—but we can move you to the marketing department, keep your salary where it is. You wouldn’t have to travel but maybe once a year, and Michaela would have no reason to be in that building.” He stopped and studied Jesse, as if trying to gauge how he was taking the news.

  Jesse was sure his face told nothing, except maybe that you could have blown him over with a Dustbuster. If only Frank had made this offer a year ago, they might not be where they were right now.

  And yet, except for the whole mess with Michaela, he was more thankful to be where he was than he could say. The dream of going back to school had always been a pipe dream. He’d accepted that he’d discovered this dream of teaching too late in life. After Corinne and the girls came along. And they were his first responsibility.

  And then it struck him. Maybe that’s what this was all about. Maybe God was trying to show him that. And this was how he was providing. He should have been grateful, but the thought made him sick with disappointment. And yet, he knew it would make Corinne equally giddy with relief.

  He looked up and realized Frank was waiting for a response.

  “I . . . wasn’t expecting this. I’m sorry this whole thing—with Michaela—has caused so much trouble.”

  Frank waved off his apology, which Jesse had only reiterated to buy him some time.

  “Can I talk this over with Corinne and get back to you?”

  His boss looked surprised. “Sure. I thought you’d be relieved. About the change. This is a lateral move, Jesse, if that’s what you’re worried about. It won’t hurt your chances of promotion in the future. I can assure you of that.”

  “I am grateful. I don’t mean to sound otherwise. I just . . . want to make sure.”

  “That’s fine. But you need to know that if you decide to stay in sales, you will go back to a traveling schedule, and I simply cannot mess with juggling things to keep you and her apart.”

  “I understand. I . . . wouldn’t expect you to.”

  “Well, I’ll get out of your hair then.” Frank rose, reluctantly, Jesse thought. “If you could let me know by Monday, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Sure. I’ll make a decision before then.”

  Frank left the door open behind him, but Jesse got up and closed it again. He didn’t know how to process this turn of events. If not for the fact that he and Corinne had a whole new set of plans in motion, he would have felt Frank’s news was a huge relief. An answer to prayer even. And maybe it was. He hoped not though. Because he was more excited about their “Plan B” than he’d felt about anything in his life for a long while.

  He flirted with the idea of not telling Corinne about Frank’s offer at all. But after everything they’d been through, if he’d learned anything at all, it was that honesty was paramount in marriage. Even when it was hard.

  And telling Corinne would be hard. Because he didn’t want to get her hopes up. He sensed she was having big-time second thoughts about the plans they’d set in motion. And he felt pretty sure this news would put her back to square one.

  25

  Go put your shoes in your closet, sweetie.”

  “But I want to wear them.” Sadie held the new sandals to her flat little chest as if they were a beloved kitten.

  “No, remember, Mommy told you they’re just for Sunday school.”

  “But—”

  “Sadie.” Corinne gave a little growl. Why did this child have to test the smallest request? “Please just do as you�
��re told. Daddy will be home in a few minutes, and I need help with supper.”

  Bingo. That did the trick. The two little girls ran back to their bedrooms, but Sari ran around to the kitchen island. “I’ll help you make the salad, okay, Mommy?”

  “That would be great, sweetie. How about you tear up the lettuce and I’ll chop the veggies?”

  “But first I hafta wash my hands, right?”

  “Exactly. First rule of the kitchen.” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head, her hair still warm from the sun.

  “I want a apron.”

  “An apron,” she corrected. “Alrighty, aprons it is.”

  She looped the neck strap of Jesse’s freshly washed grilling apron over her own head and quickly tied the strings in back, then fit one of her mom’s old half aprons around Sari’s chest. The five-year-old hopped up on the step stool in front of the kitchen sink, and side-by-side, they washed their hands in the deep sink.

  “You were a real trouper this afternoon,” Corinne told her. “I’m very proud of the way you cooperated and didn’t complain while we shopped for your sisters.”

  “But I’ll get new shoes next time, right?”

  “Well, maybe not the very next time. But soon. Before school starts. There should be some back-to-school sales starting soon.” She’d always shopped sales, but never had she been so conscious of how expensive things were. She might have to start shopping consignment stores and garage sales to keep these three in clothes. But she would not skimp on their shoes. Still, almost eighty bucks for two tiny pairs? She frowned.

  “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

  “Why?”

  “You were going like this—” Sari demonstrated with a deep-furrowed forehead.

  Corinne laughed. “I was just thinking about how much the girls’ shoes cost . . . Open the fridge for me, would you?”

  Sari hopped off the stool and went to open the door. “Is thirty-nine ninety-nine a lot?”

  She curbed a grin. “Yes it is a lot. It’s like twelve allowances.”

  She heard Sadie playing school with Simone and decided to let them play while she had some one-on-one time with her oldest—who was growing up faster than she could fathom.

  Corinne wrestled a head of lettuce from the crisper and handed it to Sari, then made a sling of her own apron and loaded it with salad veggies. She deposited them on the island cutting board and moved the step stool over for Sari.

  They worked side by side for a few minutes, filling the large pottery bowl with crisp greens, bright yellow sweet peppers, and tomatoes from Dad’s garden.

  “Mommy?”

  “What, sweetie?”

  “What’s a trouper?”

  Corinne laughed. “It’s just an expression. It means you did a great job and you were brave and strong and amazing!” She opened her mouth to explain further but realized she wasn’t actually sure where the expression came from. It didn’t matter. Sari was beaming, and Corinne’s heart overflowed with love for this daughter of hers.

  Listening for the little girls’ voices upstairs, and satisfied they were still playing happily, she gathered up the vegetable peels and scraps. “Want to help me butter the French bread next?”

  Sari nodded eagerly.

  Corinne opened a loaf of bakery bread to slice to go with ham and scalloped potatoes Mom had sent home with them Tuesday night. The house would smell heavenly when Jesse got home.

  If she tried, she could almost imagine that nothing had changed. Or ever would. That they were still the happy little family who’d moved into this house three years ago.

  For this one evening, she would just enjoy her girls and pretend Michaela Creeve had never happened.

  At the grind of the garage door going up, Sari’s eyes sparkled. “Daddy’s home!” She jumped down off the step stool and ran to the mudroom.

  “Hey, punkin!”

  Corinne washed her hands quickly and went to greet Jesse.

  He put Sari down and gave Corinne a kiss, then looked behind her expectantly. “Where are the other two?”

  “They’re upstairs playing school.”

  “Ah.” He set his briefcase on a bench and loosened his tie. “What’s for supper? It sure smells good.”

  “I helped make supper, Daddy.”

  “You did? Which part did you make?”

  “The salad.”

  “I bet that’ll be the best part, too.”

  “Uh-huh. And I helped Mommy butter the bread.”

  “So we’re having bread and salad?”

  He was teasing, but Corinne thought he was slightly preoccupied too. She wondered if something had happened at work. Supposedly Michaela was on the road this week, but then, that’s what they’d thought the day the girls disappeared. And with that thought, the idyllic afternoon she’d had with the girls dissipated like a vapor.

  Supper was the rowdy event it usually was at the Pennington’s house. Jesse played with the girls while she loaded the dishwasher. Then she gave Simone her bath while Jesse got the older girls to bed.

  She pulled the room-darkening curtains in Simone’s nursery and settled into the rocking chair with her. She heard Jesse administering last-minute drinks of water down the hall and tried to imagine how all this would work if all three girls were in one room. Well, people did it and made it work. Her friend Beth’s five boys shared two bedrooms—small ones, too. Three small girls sharing one room was the kind of “problem” she should thank God for and never speak of again.

  Simone grew heavy in her arms and Corinne rose slowly from the rocker, testing if the toddler was in a sound enough sleep to put down. Simone stirred and stretched but settled right back to sleep. Corinne put her in bed and covered her with a light blanket. She smoothed a strand of wispy hair from her baby’s face and stood beside the crib in the dim room, watching the blanket rise and fall with Simone’s drowsy breaths.

  They were blessed. No matter what had happened or what the future held, she and Jesse had so much to be grateful for.

  A shaft of light fell across the carpet and she looked toward the door to see Jesse slip in. “She asleep?” he whispered.

  She nodded.

  He came to stand beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close. “I think she’s the cutest one, don’t you?”

  “Shh. Don’t you dare wake her up,” she mouthed. But she couldn’t help but smile. It was a running joke that Jesse declared each of their daughters cuter, sweeter, brighter than the others—depending on which girl he was admiring. She’d finally told him they’d best not have any more kids lest the world be unable to handle the level of cuteness, sweetness, brightness that was likely to result.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and savored the moment. There was peace in their house, and that wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

  “If it’s cooled off, let’s go sit out on the terrace,” he said, still whispering.

  “Okay. Let me start a load of laundry first.”

  They tiptoed out into the hall. She looked in on each of the other girls and gathered the dirty laundry from their floors. Sari was still awake, looking at a book, but Sadie was out like a drunken sailor. She pulled the door shut and was surprised Jesse was still there.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “No, it won’t take me but a minute to get this going.” She held up the small pile of mostly pink clothes.

  “Okay. I’ll be outside. You want anything to drink?”

  “Some ice water, maybe.” She tilted her head and studied him. “You’re being awfully accommodating.”

  He looked sheepish. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  She held her breath for a second. “Should I be worried?”

  He hesitated a moment too long. “Not worried. But things may have just gotten more complicated.”

  She sagged.

  But he smiled and patted her back. “It’s not bad, I promise. Just . . . complicated.”

  * * *
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br />   Corinne blew out a breath and stretched her shapely legs out in front of her, and Jesse watched with renewed appreciation. Even with a frown creasing her forehead, she looked beautiful. Her hair was pulled loosely back from her face the way he liked it, and she’d gotten some sun this week, giving her skin a rosy glow.

  She regarded him through hooded eyes. “So what are you thinking? Frank’s offer doesn’t change your mind, does it?”

  “No. But I thought it might change yours.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it would kind of solve all our problems if I took the position he’s talking about.”

  She gave him a look he could only label as disgust. “It doesn’t solve your problem, Jesse. Unless the position Frank is offering you is a teaching job.”

  He shrugged. “No, of course it’s not. But I could do it, babe. I would.”

  “Do you think you should take it?”

  “I don’t have a clue. I—” He hesitated, knowing he might be giving Corinne ammunition that he didn’t really want used against him. But he’d determined to be straightforward and one hundred percent honest with her—and let the chips fall where they would. “I hate to say this, but it almost seems like this could be God’s way of pointing out a direction.”

  “Do you really think that?”

  He crossed an ankle over his knee and worried a loose thread on his sandal. “I honestly don’t have a clue what to think, Corinne. It’s sure not something I’m gung ho to do. But I could do the job. I wouldn’t be miserable in marketing. I pretty much know the position.”

  She bit her lower lip. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the idea of keeping a steady paycheck, staying in this house, and you not traveling anymore. Not to mention in a completely different building than the Wicked Witch of the West.”

  He grinned at the name she’d taken to calling Michaela. “But?”

  “But what?”

  He shrugged. “You sounded like there was more to that thought.”

  “There is.” But she stayed silent, looking out to the yard where fireflies flitted just above the manicured grass.

  “Corinne, I just want you to know that if you want me to take this offer, I am willing to do it. All you have to do is say the word.”