Two Roads Home

by Raney, Deborah;

  She rarely volunteered information to her parents and her sisters now that it had become obvious they’d run out of encouraging things to say month after month.

  For the first year after they’d started seeking medical treatment, Dallas hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But she convinced him that she needed someone else to confide in. Once tests had confirmed that the fault was hers alone, and that Dallas was fully capable of fathering a child, he had been more willing to talk with friends and family about their issues. But she sensed he was losing interest in the whole subject as well.

  She turned toward home instead. Home. It still felt a little odd to turn into the new neighborhood. The divided, stone entrance was an elegant introduction to the upscale development. She and Dallas had traded houses with her sister in August—almost two months ago now—and she still felt like she was going to visit Corinne and Jesse whenever she pulled into the driveway. They’d traded houses, and she and Dallas had traded a paid-off mortgage for a house payment. They’d put a nice down payment on the house and they could afford it, but it had definitely made things a little tighter than they were used to. And made writing checks for the fertility treatments even more painful.

  She pulled into the garage and pressed the remote to lower the door. She loved this house and was slowly getting her own touches added to the decor. The trade of homes had been a real blessing to Corinne and Jesse at a time when they needed to downsize quickly, and Danae had no regrets. She and Dallas had been looking for a house big enough for the family they hoped to have, and this place was perfect.

  Corinne had given up a lot to make it possible for Jesse to go back to school and get a teaching degree. Danae felt for her sister. She couldn’t imagine Dallas suddenly deciding to switch careers after almost a decade of marriage—and three kids. And now Corinne’s family of five was crammed into the little two-bedroom house she and Dallas had owned. And yet, they seemed happy. She sensed it was still hard for Corinne to see someone else in the house that had once been her dream home, and it had strained the sisters’ relationship, but Danae thought time would take care of that. Hopefully Jesse would have a teaching job in a couple of years and things would get back to normal for all of them.

  And hopefully, hopefully, she and Dallas would have a baby by then. Because if they didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could go on believing in a loving, caring, fair God.

  * * *

  It was only nine-thirty when the last of the kids pulled out of the driveway, the taillights of the minivan casting a red glow on the new sign Grant Whitman had just erected in front of the Chicory Inn. Watching the vehicle disappear down Chicory Lane, he patted the head of the chocolate Labrador panting at his side and inhaled the crisp night air.

  He caught the scent of woodsmoke from their nearest neighbor’s chimney half a mile up the lane. Tonight was probably the last time the weather would allow them to eat outdoors, although Audrey usually managed to talk him into one last wiener roast before they stored away the lawn furniture and put the gardens to bed for the winter.

  He sighed. “Come on, Huck. Let’s call it a day.” He bent to scoop up the last of the stray paper cups that had blown off the tables and caught in the corners of the vine-covered pergola. The trumpet vine enveloping the structure was beginning to turn a rainbow of autumn colors.

  Grant had instituted these Tuesday family dinners more than a year ago, and he still wasn’t sure whether the kids truly enjoyed them or merely tolerated them. The evenings had gone well throughout the summer, but already, now that Jesse and Corinne’s oldest was in school—and Jesse too—Grant saw the handwriting on the wall. Now there would be early bedtimes to worry about, and at least during the school year, his kids would understandably want to cut the evenings short.

  Chase and Landyn’s twins were starting to be a handful, too, now that they were semi-mobile. He smiled, thinking of little Emma and Grace. The babies were growing faster than he could keep up with. Born nearly bald, they’d both quickly turned into carbon copies of their curly-headed mother. And speaking of growing . . .

  Landyn had done some growing up since the twins were born. Watching his daughter with the babies tonight, Grant had been so proud of her. She’d turned into a devoted, conscientious mother. He suspected a lot of people thought Landyn was his favorite because she was the baby of their family. But like any father, he had a soft spot in his heart for each of his daughters—and for his daughter-in-law, Bree.

  And the truth was, that soft spot was reserved for whichever daughter was hurting. And right now, it was Danae who clutched at his sympathies. Their second child—“my second favorite daughter” he always teased her—Danae was the one with the tender heart. And so pretty he’d wanted to lock her up and throw away the key when she turned ten.

  Danae was pretty still. She wore her distinctive pale blonde hair shorter now, but always sleek and stylish. But it just about killed him to see the premature lines creasing her forehead, the spark gone from her lively blue eyes. He still saw glimpses of that spark when she looked at her husband—thank the Lord for that—and when she played with her nieces. But even then, he detected pain. He knew God had a purpose in all this . . . He always did. “But please don’t wait too long to give them children, Lord,” he whispered.

  “What’d you say, Grant?”

  Audrey’s voice startled him. He hadn’t realized she was still out here. “Nothing . . .” He reached for her and drew her close. “Just thinking out loud.”

  He planted a kiss on the top of her head. “We’ve had a pretty good life, haven’t we?”

  She pulled back to study him. “We have. But, um, it’s not over yet, dear.”

  “No, but it could be. It could all be over in the blink of an eye. A kumquat could fall off the shelf at the grocery store, and bingo, I’m history.”

  She cracked up, which, of course, had been his goal. He did so love making her laugh.

  She gave him a dismissive kiss and wriggled out of his arms. “You go ahead and stand there with that smug grin on your face. I’m going in to load the dishwasher.”

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He squatted to pull Huckleberry close. If he couldn’t hug his wife, there was always the dog. Despite making Audrey laugh, he felt the melancholy creep over him again. Huck seemed to sense it and leaned heavily against him.

  Eyeing the dark sky, the ache of sadness—one that autumn always seemed to bring—grew heavier. It would pass. It always did. But something about the death of everything in nature, and the long winter to come, caused his heart to be heavy.

  Before heading in to help Audrey with the dishes, he checked the yard one last time for the usual Tuesday night detritus of errant paper plates and the occasional pink sock. Five granddaughters now. That ought to be enough to lighten any man’s heart. But still. Danae . . .

  He walked slowly toward the house, watching his wife silhouetted through the kitchen windows. As much as Audrey loved these family nights, they were a lot of work for her.

  When he opened the back door a few minutes later, she looked up from a sink full of pots and pans. “Everything okay?” The question in her eyes said he must be wearing his worry on his sleeve.

  He didn’t want to open a can of worms, but he didn’t think he was imagining things either. “Did you think Danae seemed a little . . . off tonight?”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t know. It just seemed like she was distracted, kind of off in her own world.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “I don’t know that anything happened . . . she just seemed a little down. And she was short with Corinne. That’s not like her.”

  Audrey winced. “I think it’s hard for her to be around the babies. Especially the twins. But I hope she’s not taking it out on her sisters. They can’t help it that they have kids.” The way she said it made him wonder if she knew more than she was saying.

  “I know, but it’s got to be hard seeing them both having babies left and ri
ght when she wants one so badly. I just hope she’s the next one to get pregnant.”

  Audrey stilled. Then sighed. “Too late for that.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  She turned and leaned back against the sink, pressing her palms on the counter ledge behind her. “Corinne’s pregnant again.”

  “What?” He put his dishtowel on the counter. “How did I miss that announcement?”

  “Oh, there hasn’t been an announcement yet. At least not that I know of.”

  “When did she tell you?”

  “She didn’t. A mother knows these things.”

  He cocked his head. “That’s a pretty serious . . . accusation, Audrey.”

  “Prediction. A mother knows,” she repeated.

  “You think a sister knows, too?”

  Audrey shook her head. “I don’t think so. But Corinne is probably waiting as long as possible, knowing it will be hard news for Danae to hear. Especially in public.”

  “Well, that might explain the tension between them. But why wouldn’t she tell us?” Grant frowned. “Has Danae said anything about how they’re doing on that front?”

  “The baby front?” Audrey shrugged. “I haven’t asked in a while. Lately it seems like she’d rather not talk about it.” She took the damp dish towel from his hand and replaced it with a fresh one.

  He had to admit to being disappointed. A person would have thought there’s-a-baby-on-the-way news would have been celebrated in this family, but if Corinne and Jesse’s news was rife with tension, it would mean that exactly half of the new grandbaby announcements in their family had come with trepidation. It just wasn’t right.