by Leah Atwood
“It won’t always be like this, I promise.” He swallowed, realizing he’d underestimated how difficult this morning would be. “Thanksgiving isn’t so very far away.”
“You’re right.” She put on a brave face, but it wasn’t a very effective disguise. “This week together was unexpected anyway so I’ll just be thankful for it.”
Moving a hand to cup her chin, he let a thumb caress her cheek. “That’s my girl.”
“I should go in and get Gram,” she said but didn’t move.
“One more minute.” He lowered his head and kissed her. Pulling back, they stared at each other, inches apart, until he found the strength to say goodbye.
After he’d said farewell to Gram, he watched them load into the SUV and drive away. His heart hurt. Sharp pains traveled from his stomach to his chest, making it hard to breathe. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there when Bryce came out and put a hand to his shoulder.
“I know how you feel, man.” Bryce glanced toward the house where Sophie still was. “Last year this time, I was in your shoes.”
He stared numbly down the long driveway. “Does it get easier?”
“The leaving—no.”
“A lot of help you are.”
“Come on inside.” Bryce gave his arm a quick pat. “Why don’t you hang out here today? We can go over some of the songs.”
“Yeah, sure,” he answered, distracted in his thoughts.
Chapter 21
“Calm down, dear, or you’re going to spill everything,” Gram chided with a gentle tone.
“Sorry, Gram.” Dani dumped the pot of rice dressing into a serving bowl and carried it to the dining room. She bumped into her mom on the way back into the kitchen.
Her mom gave her a patronizing smile. “Mom and I will handle the rest of dinner. Why don’t you go wait for Rob out on the porch?”
“I’m fine, Mom. I want to help.”
Putting a hand on each of her shoulders, Dani’s mom gave her a firm gaze. “Danica Trahan, for the sake of everyone, please, get out of the kitchen. I love you dearly, but you’re a walking hazard and will continue to be so until Rob gets here.”
She arched an eyebrow. “That bad?”
“Yes.” Her mom laughed and pointed toward the door. “Go.”
Banished to the outdoors, she dropped into a rocking chair that had aged with grace and had hosted many heartfelt conversations over the years. Her fingers itched to call Rob, find out where he was, but she didn’t want to distract him while he was driving. He’d texted a half hour ago that he was filling up with a final tank of gas and would be there in the hour. The anticipation gave her too much restless energy.
“Trying to make the chair take flight?”
Turning around, she saw her dad standing at the door. She put her feet flat on the porch, stopping the rocker’s sway. “I didn’t even realize I was doing that.”
“Can you spare a minute for your old man?”
“Have a seat?” She swept an arm over the chair next to her.
He sat down, filling out the chair. Gil Trahan was a large man, and when Dani was a child, she’d always felt protected by his sheer size. It wasn’t until she was older that she realized the sense of safety came from his unwavering love and support.
“Your mom tells me to brace myself for wedding bells in the near future.” He rocked in slow, methodical motions.
“That might be premature, but I could easily see it going in that direction,” she admitted honestly.
“Does he treat you well?”
“Yes.” True to his word, Rob had gone out of his way to make the distance bearable. A card or short note came every day in the mail, their days started and ended on the phone. He asked about her, he listened to her, he did everything he could to show he cared.
“Do you love him?”
She nodded. It had been happening for some time, slowly building since the early summer. She and Gram hadn’t crossed over the Tennessee state-line on their way home before she knew it without a doubt.
“You’ll always be my little girl, no matter how old you are.” He stood and dusted her hair with a kiss. “I think your man is here.” Sure enough, Rob’s Jeep was ambling down the drive. “I’ll see you two inside.”
Dani stood and gripped the railing, waiting for him to complete the last hundred feet. Unable to wait, she ran to where he had just parked. Rob opened the door and stepped out, a bouquet of fall-colored flowers in hand.
He gave them to her with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
Indigo cushion poms were sparsely dispersed among orange lilies and roses. Raising them to her nose, she took a sniff—they smelled as good as they looked. “They’re beautiful, and my two favorite colors. Thank you.”
His gaze never wavered from her and his eyes darkened to a midnight blue. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” The flowers almost fell from her hands.
Rob took them and laid them on the front seat before drawing her into a long-awaited embrace. He smelled better than the flowers.
“I was afraid I’d get a speeding ticket trying to get here.”
“I was banished from the kitchen.”
Looking down at her, Rob flashed a magnetic grin. “I like you better here.”
“Me too, but we should go in.” She glanced back at the house, content to stay outside. “The last of dinner should be on the table.”
“This is the first time in years I’ve had a home-cooked Thanksgiving meal.” He leaned inside the Jeep and grabbed her flowers plus two smaller bouquets.
“That’s so sad.” She took her flowers back from him.
“Not really.” Shifting the two remaining bouquets to one hand, he slid an arm around her waist. “They were spent with friends, but usually at a restaurant. I think the last time I had a non-commercial one was the year on tour with a stop near Adam’s family on Thanksgiving. His mom invited us, and we spent the day there.”
That produced a much happier vision than the one she’d had of him eating a lonely meal. They walked to the house. “Gram, Mom, and I made more than enough. Gram will probably send you off tomorrow with an ice chest full of leftovers.”
“She won’t hear a complaint from me.” Reaching the door, they paused. “How is Gram? I’ve been thinking of her, with this being the first major holiday without Gramps.”
“As well as can be expected, but it’s still difficult.” Dani frowned. “There’ve been numerous times I’ve caught her tearing up. She tries to hide it, but she’s never been very good at lying, even for what she thinks is a noble reason.”
“The first one’s the worst, but they get less difficult in time.”
His statement made her stop and think. She’d known Gram and Rob had bonded, for which she was happy, but she’d never stopped to consider why. Only then did she realize her grandmother and boyfriend shared a connection she couldn’t understand and, Lord willing, would never have to experience. They’d both lost someone with whom they’d pledged to share their lives, only Gram had had the opportunity while Rob’s had been cut short.
Little things he’d done for Gram in the last few months floated to the front of her mind, In light of her revelation, she fell even more in love with him. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Gram came to the screen door and opened it, an unabashed smile beaming from ear to ear. “We’re so happy you could join us.” She tweaked Rob’s cheek then waved them in. “Come in, come in. Dinner’s ready and waiting.”
ROB STOOD ACROSS the counter at Bayou Bits, his stare fixed on Dani as it had been for the last ten minutes. Occasionally she’d look up at him through lowered lashes with a shy smile. His observation of her sent butterflies through her, and she worried she’d get distracted and mess up their food. This was the first time she’d made a meal specifically for him.
Making the most of their too brief visit, he’d come to the restaurant, assisting her with tasks before he took off for Ca
lifornia in less than an hour. She tore the lettuce by hand, giving up on a knife when her hands were too shaky. The greens filled two large square plates. Then she took two hard-boiled eggs and sliced them, arranging oval pieces on a corner of each bed of lettuce. Lastly, she took the seafood salad from the fridge and dropped two large scoops on each plate. It wasn’t the fanciest meal, but a widely popular one among guests and it was quick and easy to make, the salad having taken only ten minutes to mix when she first came in that morning.
“What can I do?” Rob asked, speaking for the first time in five minutes.
“You can grab the drinks.” She put a fork on each plate and carried them into the dining room.
Following her, Rob carried two glasses of sweet tea. He set them on the table where she’d stopped. “This looks great.”
“I figured after last night’s dinner, and since you’ll be on the road today, you wouldn’t want anything heavy.”
He pulled out a chair for her, scooted it back in as she sat. “By the way, you were right about Gram. On my way out, she handed me a cooler filled with food and ice packs.”
“Told you she would.” She chuckled once. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, my family thinks food is the solution to everything.”
“I think that’s just good, ol’ southern hospitality.”
“Is your mom excited to see you?” Out of habit, she tapped the wood tabletop.
Drawing in a heavy breath, he set down his fork, the lettuce he’d stabbed still on it. “She doesn’t know.”
“Rob.” She gasped. “You can’t just show up after ten years with nary a word.”
His shoulders sagged. “I know.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want her to make a big deal out of it.”
“I hate to break it to you,” she said, arching both eyebrows, “but it is a big deal.”
“You don’t know my mom.” A faraway look in his eyes was unreadable. “You think your family has lots of get-togethers? If mom had a hint of warning, she’d have every aunt, uncle, cousin and neighbor we’d ever known over for a party.”
“Ah.” His reasoning clicked. He’d hidden it well, but Rob had a rare modesty that didn’t care to attract attention. “If it gets to be too much, I’m only a phone call away.”
They finished their meals in subdued silence. Both knew he had to leave, and neither wanted to acknowledge it. Goodbye was quickly becoming her least favorite word.
Pushing his hands against the table, Rob was the first to stand. “Walk me out?”
Lumps of emotion crowded her breathing. A five hundred mile separation was bad enough. Two thousand were unthinkable. She fought back tears—a few days here, several hours there, was never going to be enough. Somehow she’d find a way to be happy with the time they had, however limited it was. As Mom always said, she could do anything as long as it was temporary.
“I’ll be back, Dani. I promise.”
They’d walked outside and were standing in front of the Jeep. Don’t fall apart. “You better.” It was meant to be a joke, but came out weak and unsteady.
He brushed her hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger. When he drew it away, the callused tips of his fingers grazed her cheek. “I love you.”
She tried to speak, but nothing came out.
Rob dropped a kiss on her forehead, went around to the driver’s door. He got in, buckled up then rolled down the window. “I’ll call you when I stop tonight.” The engine cranked.
Why couldn’t she say anything? She had to find her voice. “Wait,” she finally said. “I love you, too.”
A lazy smile parted his lips. “I know.”
Chapter 22
Sunlight came through the window, warming Rob enough for him to avoid turning on the heat. He didn’t recall the desert being so cold, but then, he had been gone a third of his life. There would likely be many more things remembered during this visit that he’d long forgotten.
Very little was on either side of the road he drove on, other than some scrub and sand. Fifty miles back, a jackrabbit had run across the road, the only sign of life he’d seen outside the small towns scattered along the highway. The lines on the road became a blur. Pulling off the asphalt, he parked and took a break. Thirty miles to go until he got to Sand River.
He needed to focus, shake the memories from his head. Glancing up, he remembered the note stuck in his visor that Dani had slipped him Friday morning. He pulled it out, rereading it for the tenth time. It was a simple note, a handwritten verse from the Bible. “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”
It was a promise and affirmation he held close to his heart because he needed all the strength he could muster. The onslaught of memories hadn’t been as potent as he’d expected, but they were there, nonetheless. If anything positive could be said, it was that the recollections didn’t conjure the emotions they once had—guilt, despair, loss. Instead, they were images of a time in his life he’d rather not remember, but that no longer held him captive.
He rubbed his temples, uttering a prayer. He opened the door and stepped out, took a deep breath of the dry air. Reaching inside, he grabbed his phone and called Dani.
On the second ring, she answered. “Hi, did you make it?”
Her cheerful tone did wonders for him, and his shoulders felt lighter. “Not yet. I’m still thirty miles out.”
“You’re on the home stretch.” Her voice lowered and switched to one of concern. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay, better than I anticipated.” He nudged a rock in circles with the toe of his boot. “It’s weird, you know? Everyone always says you can’t go home again, but here I am, going after all these years.”
Silence spanned over the phone line. He was about to say something else when she spoke. “Things there are bound to have changed, but so have you. You’re a different person than you were when you left, even than you were a year ago.”
“Thanks, Dani.”
“Remember, I’m only a phone call away, day or night.” Her sigh echoed through the phone. “I wish I could be there with you.”
“I’ll fly you out here.” They both knew he wouldn’t, not that he wasn’t willing. This was something he had to do on his own. But the next trip, she was coming with him. He wanted his family to meet her, know her, and love her.
Dani laughed, a light chuckle. “Be careful what you offer.”
“I should get back on the road. I’ll call you later this afternoon.”
“Drive safely.”
He slid back into the driver’s seat, tossing his phone into a cup holder. Half an hour later, he pulled up to his parents’ house. Not much had changed about the sprawling, one-story, white brick structure. The same stone birdbath still sat in the front yard, the beak of the carved swan still chipped.
One garage door was open, and a late-model, top-end sedan with temporary tags filled the bay. He smiled—it was his mom’s present from him for her sixtieth birthday—her first brand-new car ever. His dad had helped him orchestrate the surprise last month.
“Thank you,” she’d said. “I love it, but what I’d love even more would be to see you.”
They’d had the same conversation almost twenty times. Once every year on her birthday, and again at Christmas. As the years progressed, the conversation was extended.
“If you won’t come to us, let us come to you,” she’d begged.
“I’m not ready.”
He’d been a rotten son, there was no excuse. That ended today.
His fists clenched and unclenched. This shouldn’t be so hard. Just get out and walk. One step at a time.
He did it. He got out of the Jeep, his keys clinking in his shaky hands. Reaching the door, he pressed the glowing button to ring the doorbell. Footsteps approached, each step, making his heart pound harder. The door opened and his mom appeared. Recent pictures he’d seen of her didn’t do her justice. She was still beautiful even though older. Her once blonde
hair was beginning to turn a silvery-white and her once flawless skin was aged, but none of it diminished her beauty.
He knew the moment she realized it was him standing there. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Extending her arm, she felt his cheek as though he might be an apparition.
“My son,” she uttered in full awe. “Please tell me I’m not imagining you standing here.”
“You’re not.”
She took a step forward, then clung to him. “I’ve been waiting so long.” Streams of tears rolled down her cheek, flooding his shirt.
Wet clothing was the least of penance he could pay. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”
Heaving cries subsided, and his mom stared at him from behind a tear-streaked face. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
When his mom let him go, which was a good ten minutes later, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s been at your sister’s since church let out, helping to put together a play set Jamie bought on clearance.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Listen to my rambling. Come in. You’re staying for a while right? I won’t blink and open my eyes to find you gone, will I?”
A wry smile turned into a chuckle. “I plan on staying a few weeks.”
His mom squeezed him again. “Come, sit, and I’ll call your father. Can I tell Jamie? The kids would love to meet you.”
Her exuberant words, spoken out of pure joy, slapped him in the face. He was an uncle and hadn’t even met his niece and nephew. Guilt will eat you if you allow it a home. “Thank you Gramps,” he whispered.
“What was that?” His mom tilted an ear toward him.
“Nothing, and yes, please tell Jamie. I’d like to meet Jordan and Cheyenne.” There was no going back, only moving forward. He’d lived, and he’d learned some hard lessons.
“What do you drink? Are you hungry?” She flitted around the kitchen like a worker bee.
“If you have any tea, that’s fine.” He sat down at the solid oak table, the same one they’d had when he left and probably would have for years to come.
Seconds later, a tall glass of tea sat in front of him.