The Winding Road Home

by Sally John

  “Apartment?”

  “In case you want to leave a pot of chili for me when I’m out of town.” He grinned. “Or cookies.”

  She laughed. “That was a subtle hint.”

  “It’s too late for subtle. Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Graham stood on Adele’s doorstep, anticipating one of his favorite moments of the day.

  The door opened and she smiled.

  That was it.

  She took a step back and he went inside.

  “I was driving home and saw your lights on.”

  “Will you stay?”

  He nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t.”

  He wore a sport coat, not one he needed to remove, and so they stood still, looking at each other. Their greetings were growing awkward. Shaking hands reeked of formality. A friendly hug and peck on the cheek far too artificial.

  He wanted to hold her.

  He took half a step toward her, and in that shy way of hers, she melted into his arms. He set his chin atop her head and held her close. All the angst of the day fled.

  “Adele, I take too much from you.”

  She tilted her head back.

  Bad move. Perfect kissing position.

  “What do you mean, take?”

  He shut his eyes, blocking out the view. “Shall we sit?”

  She took his hand and led him to the couch. Not ideal, but better.

  “Take,” he repeated. “I drop by unannounced at ten o’clock because I know I’ll feel better after being with you.”

  “That’s not much taking.” She smiled. “How is he tonight?”

  “He’s well. It’s such a roller-coaster ride. One day he seems almost healthy, the next I don’t know how he can make it through another day.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Are you hungry?”

  “Only for your company. How was your visit?” An old friend, now living in Rockville, had joined her for dinner.

  “Wonderful. It was so great to catch up with Naomi. I told you about her, didn’t I?”

  “The woman who took you in. This was her house.”

  “Yes. Chelsea calls her Aunt Naomi. They had a little chat. I don’t know that she learned anything, but I’m sure she encouraged my daughter to give me a break.”

  “Sound advice.”

  “Naomi also had some advice concerning you.”

  “Oh?”

  “That I should learn more about you before I go off the deep end with my feelings.”

  “That is sound advice. Are you going off the deep end?”

  She turned away and picked up the remote. “Shall we watch the news?”

  “Adele.”

  She clicked on the television.

  He took the remote from her and clicked it off. “Please don’t go off the deep end until you know me better.”

  She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “Well, that makes two of you who think feelings can be turned on and off like a spigot. I’m afraid I haven’t quite got the hang of it.”

  “Then maybe we’d better spend less time together.”

  “That’s what she said. More sound advice?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, you’re free to go whenever you want.” She tucked her feet beneath her, yanked the remote out of his hand, and turned on the television again.

  Go, Logan. Get up and walk out. Don’t even look back.

  He made it to the front door, his hand on the knob, and then it struck like a blow to his solar plexis. The loss of Sammi, the imminent loss of Rand, and now the loss of Adele. He couldn’t breathe.

  The coming weeks would change things. She would know more about him than she would ever care to know.

  But they had this moment.

  He strode back into the living room, grabbed the remote from beside her on the couch, turned off the television, and tossed the control across the room onto a chair, out of reach.

  She glared up at him.

  He sat sideways facing her, his hand on the back of the couch behind her. “Adele, I will hurt you someday.”

  Her glare softened. “I know,” she whispered. “But all I can think of is that silly old saying. It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

  “Alfred, Lord Tennyson. It’s not a silly old saying.”

  “But is it true?”

  She didn’t know. She really didn’t know. He knew. Knew it was true. Knew he would gamble again.

  He cupped her face between his hands and kissed her with all the emotion that had been building inside him. What had she said? That a spigot could stop it? Not even Hoover Dam.

  Early the next day Graham was on a commercial airliner flying east. By 1 p.m. he was at the cemetery. He sat down on grass already thick and green in the southern Virginia sunshine.

  “Hi, Sammi.”

  He laid a bouquet of red roses near the tombstone.

  Samantha Abbott Logan.

  Today was March 20, five years after the March 20 carved into the stone. The date of his annual visit. The date when his world stopped spinning once again.

  “So how are things going in heaven?”

  He hadn’t figured out why he continued the agonizing ritual. As a tribute to the memory of his wife? As an act of penance? He sensed that despite the passage of years and the lessening of the raw grief, he had not yet felt closure. Unfinished business gnawed in a vague way, nothing he could pinpoint. And so he continued to come.

  As always, a tenderness filled him as he recalled how he loved the bubbly young school teacher…how she loved him. And then the guilt would wash over him.

  He made the trek alone, in and out of town the same day. He avoided seeing her parents, who lived nearby. They had never cared much for him. Rightly so. He had taken their only child away, taken her north, and then he had allowed her to be killed. It was all he could bear to be at her grave site. To see their faces wasn’t an option for him.

  He first met Sammi in Roanoke. He’d been on assignment…she was teaching…mutual acquaintances had introduced them. When he was transferred, she resigned to go with him. Neither of them had ever regretted the choice.

  The end descended upon them swift as an avalanche. Early morning. They were on the lawn, Sammi ready to leave for school. How long had the killer stalked them, waiting for the perfect moment when Graham had a front row seat to his wife’s death?

  Everyone agreed that it was a professional job. Though it was never proven, he knew the assassin had been hired by a convicted drug dealer behind bars. He had blamed Graham for his wife’s accidental death and threatened retaliation. It didn’t matter that she had died in a crossfire initiated by the dealer.

  Graham wiped away angry tears, hating the feeling of helplessness that still haunted the memory. In his mind he sought the voices of friends, people who had loved Sammi too, telling him there was nothing more to be done, to let it go. Once again, they comforted.

  “Sammi, you’ll never guess who I finally met. Adele Chandler. Remember that name? She’s grown into quite a woman. In a way she reminds me of you. She’s full of that deep joy you had. And she’s pretty. You’d like her.

  “Funny thing is…I kissed her last night. Yeah, I’m head over heels. Imagine that. Not that I want to be, but there it is. I keep telling myself not to sign up for sure heartache again, but it seems I don’t have a vote in the matter. I just wanted you to know. Not that you’d care, considering you can’t hear me.

  “She has a kid. You’d like Chelsea too—”

  Graham cringed at his words. A kid. A kid. They resounded in his head. A kid. She has a kid.

  Sammi had wanted children. She had desperately wanted children. Graham was adamantly opposed to having children.

  It was the single point of contention between them. It was…what they had argued about on the front lawn that morning.

  Without advance warning, the memory hit Graham like a tidal wave, engulfing him, taking away his breath
.

  Sammi had held her own, not backing down as she faced him, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her hands were propped on her slender hips…hips hidden with the rest of her body beneath that favorite baggy jumper of hers.

  He fumed back at her. How many times had they had this discussion? His job was too demanding! It wouldn’t be fair to give a child such an uncertain future! What was she thinking? She saw every day in her classroom the devastating effects of parents on children.

  And then the bullet struck.

  The memory continued to roll over him. Details hammered at him until at last he could no longer fight them, pretending they didn’t exist.

  Yes, he had ignored the blossoming curves on his wife’s body. Yes, he refused to face the truth. Yes, his inflexible line of reasoning was the cruelest response he could have given her.

  And now here he was, falling in love with a woman who had a child. He knew full well that loving Adele would mean caring for Chelsea. He knew that loving Adele would mean facing the possibility of her wanting a baby. And those two caveats did not disturb him in the least!

  “Sammi, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

  Graham cried unreservedly now as he finally acknowledged the truth he had buried with her, the truth that still had the power to rip him apart five years later.

  Two people had died in his arms that day. His wife…and his unborn child.

  Twenty-Five

  Seven o’clock. Saturday night. March twenty-fourth. The Valley Oaks Times office.

  Her birthday. Her thirtieth birthday.

  With a dramatic sigh, Kate shut down the computer.

  Is melancholy a sin, Lord?

  What a week! She and Rusty had finished the paper’s weekly edition together and filled the vending machines Thursday night. After sharing a pizza at the Parlor, they had said their goodbyes.

  The woman had grabbed her in a tight embrace right out there on the sidewalk. An unfamiliar hint of softness laced her familiar foghorn of a voice when she said something highly irregular. “Keep praying for me, Katy-girl?”

  “Of course I will, Rusty.”

  She had patted her shoulders. “Oh, call me Crusty. All my closest friends do.” With a smile and a wave, she was gone.

  And Kate felt a sadness.

  Friday had been a whirlwind. By 7 a.m. she was cruising in Helen across the countryside, distributing the Times to outlying gas stations and a truck stop. Back in Valley Oaks, she hit the grocery store, pharmacy, and gas station. In the office she gratefully worked with the receptionist on next week’s schedule. As if that would hold. Alice, a young homemaker with way too many things on her plate, worked more or less when she could. Nine out of ten callers were greeted by the answering machine rather than Alice.

  The afternoon hours were consumed with phone interviews and writing articles. The evening ended with yet another boys basketball game. Kate felt a twinge of guilt for her silent “amen” when a Viking player missed the last chance at a three-point shot, thereby losing the game and abruptly terminating their season. No more games. No more out-of-town late-night tournaments. Whew! Finis.

  She had fallen exhausted into bed last night, thinking that perhaps her limitless supply of energy had, at the age of 29 years and 364 days, a limit. It was a new thought, and it made her sad.

  Saturday dawned with her cell phone ringing beside the bed, her parents calling to wish her a happy birthday. The usual family celebration was scheduled for Sunday.

  They had invited Tanner. They liked him. Kate hadn’t informed him that it was her birthday. It was just a Kilpatrick Sunday gathering. She didn’t want him feeling obligated and buying another gift, for goodness’ sake, after the laptop.

  And besides, the thought of turning 30 had interfered with her rational thought processes. Jesus had started His public ministry at that age. Here she was, still not finished with school, still not settled in a high-profile political journalist’s career the way she had promised Him.

  And that made her sad.

  Kate flipped on the office night-light and turned off the other lights.

  Tanner.

  They planned to have dinner together, but with both of them inundated with extra work, they scheduled it for no earlier than seven. She told him if he didn’t show up by then, she would head to the video store and drag him from his mess.

  Tanner.

  The melancholy felt like molten lead flowing over her shoulders now, weighing her down.

  Tanner. Her feelings were getting tangled up in a perfectly good friendship.

  And that made her really sad.

  Tanner stood outside his darkened video store in the chilly night air, stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, and admired his adopted town. The corner streetlamp cast a soft glow on the sidewalk and the square across the street. He chuckled. Who would have imagined he would wind up out in a rural village with a business? With a spunky, redheaded geek for a best friend?

  Life was indeed growing stranger by the minute. For the first time ever, he considered each day something other than an endurance test. Was it the anticipation of a fresh start? The challenge of running the store? The relief of placing physical distance between himself and the childhood memories that haunted Rockville? The pleasure of a community already welcoming him? The unconditional acceptance of the redhead?

  Speaking of which, where was she? He turned around and studied the video store. Nothing but darkness filled the large plate-glass window. He paced along the sidewalk. At last he heard old Helen chugging, drawing closer. He watched her approach, zipping along Fourth Avenue. Across from the store, she whipped around at breakneck speed into a parking space.

  Kate rolled down the window and called out, “Hop in. She’s warm.”

  He cringed. Riding with Kate was a surefire way of agitating nerves he didn’t even know he had.

  He opened her door. “Come on. Ride with me.”

  “Your leather seats are freezing.”

  “I’ll get you a blanket.”

  “You’re chicken.” She turned off the engine and climbed out.

  “So? At least I’m man enough to admit it.”

  She laughed. “That’s true.”

  He pulled on her arm as she veered toward his car. “Come inside a minute. Let me show you what I did today.”

  “All right, but let’s make it quick. I’m hungry!”

  “I knew that.”

  He pushed open the door and a bell jingled above.

  “You put up the bell! Nice.”

  “Thanks.” He fumbled for the light switch, complaining loudly, “I don’t know why anyone would put this switch here—”

  “Surprise!” loud voices sang out as the lights flickered on. “Surprise!”

  Kate screamed and, although expecting the moment, Tanner jumped. The timing had been perfect.

  Kate screamed again as her parents and friends surrounded her, everyone shouting again, “Happy birthday!”

  Tanner almost felt sorry for her. She looked terrified. After screaming again she burst into tears. As her mother hugged her, he exchanged a puzzled look with her dad, who only shrugged and mouthed, “Women.”

  It was Kate’s birthday. He had invited Britte and Lia, who passed the word to Joel; Cal; Chloe; Anne, Alec, and their kids; Gina and Brady; the pastor and his family; and a few folks he didn’t know. Kate’s family had brought along her friend Beth and her family. Adele, Graham, and Chelsea completed the crowd filling his two rooms.

  He had made space by moving aside shelves and opening up the Ping-Pong table for the caterers to use. The Posateris, owners of the Pizza Parlor, had cooked all of Kate’s favorite dishes and now served them. Adele had ordered the cake from Swensen’s Market; it looked like a newspaper with the headline “New Editor Turns 30.” Chelsea and Chloe had hung crepe paper everywhere and provided a CD player that now blared Kate’s favorite oldies radio station. People had brought lawn chairs for seats.

  The party was well under way b
efore Kate smiled at him. She slipped through the crowd, approaching him, hands on hips and frowning. “Tanner Carlucci, you are in trouble. Big trouble.”

  “Happy birthday!” He laughed and caught her up in a bear hug, twirling until she squealed to be set down. “So, were you surprised?”

  She shook her head, smiling. “I have no idea how you did this. I never even told you when my birthday was.”

  “Rusty did. It was on your application form.”

  “And she’s the only one missing.”

  “But she left a gift. Did you see your pile of gifts, by the way?”

  She appeared thoroughly embarrassed.

  He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I told them not to bring gifts.”

  “I hardly know most of these people,” she whispered back.

  “Just a little bit of that Magic Kingdom shining through.” He kissed her cheek. “Go eat, birthday girl.”

  Magic Kingdom indeed.

  When Kate was a little girl and all of her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins would come to her birthday party, the crowd equaled tonight’s in number. However, it had never approached the outrageous gesture of acceptance displayed by the Valley Oaks group. Nor could she remember such laughter.

  And to think that Tanner planned it all.

  She closed the door on Beth and her family, the last to go, and joined him in the back room where he was tying up trash bags.

  “Tanner, thank you so much!”

  He grinned like a little boy. “You’re so welcome. It was great. Do you think they’ll all come back next week for the open house?”

  “More free food? And prizes to boot? Of course they will!” She sat on a lawn chair, making a mental note to remind him that tomorrow they could buy the chairs she had spotted in a Rockville ad. “How long have you been planning this?”

  “Since Rusty told me she was leaving. Just under two weeks.” He sat down beside her. “She had been reviewing your application and noticed the date was close to your big 3-0 day. Did you have a good time?”

  “I had such a good time! Did you see my folks and Beth mingling with everyone? I love that they got to see Valley Oaks up close. And all the yummy food! And didn’t everyone seem to laugh a lot?”