Catherine smiled as she motioned toward the doorway. “Go ahead.”
Leah looked at the door before exhaling heavily. Seeing it made her chest ache. Why was she doing this? What was the point? Why did she continue to torture herself, year after year, by coming here?
She placed the cup on the table before she stood and walked the short distance over to the bedroom.
Leah took a few steps inside, trying to reconcile what she was seeing with what she remembered. The walls were grayish blue, no longer the lavender from her childhood. A single full-sized bed was pushed up against the wall where the bunk beds she had shared with her sister had been. She walked over to it and sat down, running her hand over the soft navy blue comforter.
Beside the bed was a wooden table with a small television and another vase of daffodils. As Leah leaned over to smell them, she noticed the far wall; the shelves that had housed all her dolls and stuffed animals were gone. Instead, there were several framed photos. The largest one was a close-up of two little boys, their arms thrown around each other, grinning from ear to ear. They were pointing at each other’s mouths, drawing attention to the fact that they were both missing their two front teeth.
Leah smiled, glancing around the room one more time. It was simple, neutral, and no longer hers.
“It’s my guest room,” Catherine said from the doorway, and Leah jumped up from the bed, rubbing her palms down the sides of her jeans. “My boy stays here from time to time when he—”
They both turned as the front door swung open, banging unceremoniously against the wall.
“Gram?” a voice called. “Do you know some stupid asshole parked in front of your garage? I had to park two blocks over and lug this thing all the way back here.”
Catherine glanced at Leah, smiling apologetically before she said, “Language, Daniel.”
“Sorry,” the voice said. “Just let me get your tree set up and I’ll have one of my guys tow it out of here.”
Leah’s eyes widened in alarm just as Catherine looked at her, waving her hand dismissively in his direction.
He turned the corner then, propping a Christmas tree up against the wall in the living room. Leah could see him through the half wall as he unzipped his jacket with one hand and pulled off his gray wool hat with the other, revealing a mess of inky black hair sticking up in every direction. He placed his keys on top of the wall and ran his hand through his hair, walking through the small kitchen toward the dining area. As he entered the room, he lifted his eyes, stopping short as they made contact with Leah. Against the dark tone of his hair, they were shockingly blue.
“Hi?” he said, his brow furrowed.
“Daniel, this is Leah.”
He cast a confused look at Catherine before bringing his eyes back to her.
“I’m the stupid asshole,” she said.
She heard Catherine chuckle beside her, and Leah smiled when Daniel had the good graces to look embarrassed.
“Sorry…I…”
“It’s okay. Sorry about making you have to walk with that tree,” Leah said, motioning toward the living room.
He nodded, still looking sheepish, and Leah couldn’t help but find his embarrassed awkwardness somewhat charming. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to put him out of his misery or needle him just to keep it going a bit longer.
“Listen,” she said, walking over to the chair to grab her coat, “if your tow truck guy is already on his way, could he just tow me over to Giovanni’s? That’s where I’m headed.”
He stared at her for a second before amusement flickered behind his eyes, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
“That’s sort of frowned upon,” he said, and Leah nodded in feigned disappointment.
“Damn,” she said, zipping up her jacket and wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Well, in that case, I better get going. Catherine, it was a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for everything.”
Catherine shuffled toward her, holding out her arms, and Leah leaned down and gave her a gentle hug. “Anytime, dear. Next year you come right on up to this door and give it a knock, okay?”
“I will,” Leah promised, and Catherine gripped her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“You take care, honey.”
As Leah made her way toward the door, she nodded a farewell to Daniel, and he returned the gesture; it looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained quiet as he stepped to the side to let her by.
The cold air seemed less offensive as she made her way across the tiny yard, feeling strangely at peace for the first time in a while. Leah unlatched the gate, and as she turned to close it behind her, she let her eyes rove over the yard one last time. This time, she pictured Catherine sitting in a folding chair, drinking a cup of tea while she watched her grandson paint the fence. Leah smiled to herself as she closed the gate and turned toward the street.
She had just reached her driver’s side door when she heard his voice.
“Hey, hold up a sec.”
Leah looked up to see the screen door swing closed behind Daniel as he jogged toward the gate and unlatched it. “Listen,” he said as he approached her car. He shoved his hands in his pockets before clearing his throat. “I just wanted to apologize. For the whole stupid asshole thing.”
And there it was again—that endearing self-consciousness.
“It’s okay,” Leah said. “It was a stupid asshole move.”
He smiled, revealing a set of dimples. “Yeah. It was.”
Leah laughed to herself as she reached into her purse for her keys. “Wow. That was seriously the worst apology ever.”
She heard him chuckle, and when she looked up, he was still smiling down at her with those dimples. “Well, damn. Can I try again?”
She shrugged. “Go for it.”
Daniel reached forward and opened the driver’s side door for her, bowing slightly as he gestured for her to have a seat. “Here you go, milady. My deepest and sincerest apologies for insinuating that you were a stupid asshole.” He straightened. “How was that?”
“Better,” she said through a laugh as she turned to get into the car. Just before she slid inside, her eye landed on the bay window in the kitchen. She could see Catherine sitting alone at the table, cautiously sipping her tea.
As Leah sat in the driver’s seat, she turned to look up at Daniel. “I’m glad she has you,” she said sincerely. “Don’t ever stop taking care of her.”
She watched his dimples fade as his expression fell, and then he nodded.
“It was nice meeting you,” Leah said, reaching to close the car door, and he stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets again.
“You too,” he said absently.
She smiled as she pulled the door shut and started the car. Daniel held up his hand as he took another step back, and she returned the gesture as she pulled out onto the street.
She liked the idea of him taking care of her. That kind of thoughtfulness was a trait that jumped out at Leah now, because the absence of it should have been the red flag in her last relationship.
Whatever the reason, she couldn’t deny that it was extremely attractive when a guy was as family-oriented as Daniel seemed to be.
And there was something inherently attractive about a guy with manners, too—the way he had apologized for his language, how embarrassed he’d looked at having offended her.
Who was she kidding? There was something attractive about him. Period.
The pitch-black hair with the light eyes, the masculine jaw with the boyish dimples. He had the kind of face she wanted to stare at, just to appreciate the way all the pieces complemented each other.
But of course, she hadn’t done it. That would have been weird, and completely inappropriate.
For a second, Leah found herself wishing she knew his last name. After all, if he had a Facebook profile, she could examine his picture as long as she wanted without it being weird—
The second the idea crossed her mind, her cheeks flood
ed with heat, even though no one was privy to the ridiculousness of that last thought but her.
What the hell was she doing?
Since when was she the kind of girl who stalked guys on the internet? Since when was she the kind of girl who pursued guys at all? She’d never been the one to initiate a relationship. Besides, she hadn’t been involved with a guy in two years, nor did she have any desire to be.
Although, if all it took to turn her into a creeper was a pair of dimples and some manners, maybe there was some subconscious part of her that was tired of being alone.
Leah shook her head at that; she wasn’t tired of being alone. She was just tired, and it was making her scatterbrained. She leaned over and turned on the radio, letting the music chase away her thoughts as she pulled up to the intersection.
Giovanni’s was about six blocks from her old house; it was an old-fashioned, family-owned Italian deli that hadn’t changed since she’d first been there with her parents as a little girl. The red awning out front was faded and worn so that it appeared to be almost pink, and the white block letters that spelled out the store’s name were now a murky, grayish color. As Leah pulled onto the deli’s block, she was reminded of something else about the place that never changed: there was a line nearly out the door. It was a popular deli on an average day, but during Christmastime it was borderline legendary.
She began her usual routine of circling the block, looking for an open parking space, and on her second pass, amazingly, she noticed a spot had opened up right in front of the door. She cut the wheel sharply, pulling into the spot without using her blinker and glancing around to make sure she hadn’t just snagged the spot from someone who had been waiting.
No one.
“Wow,” Leah said to herself, cutting the engine and grabbing her purse. In all the years she’d been shopping there, she’d never even gotten a spot on the same block, let alone right out front. “Must be my lucky day.”
She stood in line for almost half an hour, tossing items into her handheld basket as she inched up the aisle toward the counter. When she finally reached it, she placed her order, remembering to include the fresh ravioli her brother loved so much he would often eat them raw before she could cook them.
As the girl behind the counter totaled up her order, Leah reached inside her purse to grab her wallet.
And that’s when she noticed it.
Her stomach lurched as she shook her wrist. “No,” she whispered in a panic, pushing up her sleeve with her other hand. “Shit!” she said, rummaging frantically through her purse, hoping it had just slipped off and fallen inside.
“Is something wrong?” the girl behind the counter asked.
“I lost something,” Leah said, stepping up to the counter and abruptly dumping the contents of her purse over the top of it. The girl jumped back, a startled expression on her face as Leah sifted through the change, makeup, and receipts scattered across the counter.
She whipped around in a frenzy, her eyes scanning the floor behind her. “Did anyone see a bracelet?” she asked, nudging her way through the line of people behind her. There were a few mumbled no’s and sorry’s as she scoured the floor near the shelves, looking for any sign of it.
“Miss, I’m sorry, but there’s a line,” the girl at the counter called.
She continued pushing through the crowd until she had a clear view of the door where she came in. She needed to retrace her steps.
“Miss,” the girl called again.
“Yeah, okay,” Leah said, her voice detached as she walked backward toward the counter, bumping into people as her eyes continued to comb the floor. By the time she made it back to the front of the line, it was clear that any sympathy from the crowd had now transitioned into annoyance.
She swiped everything on the counter back into her purse and absently paid for her things, turning every few seconds to inspect the floor behind her again.
The woman handed her the box of food, and Leah balanced it precariously in her arms as she rushed out of the deli. It was freezing, but she could already feel a cold sweat breaking out over her back.
She hurried to her car and threw the box inside before turning to examine the sidewalk. The distance between her car and the door to the deli couldn’t have been more than five feet, but she already knew that if she had dropped it outside, it would most likely be gone. Someone would have picked it up and taken it, no doubt. Still, she continued her futile search of the sidewalk for another ten minutes.
By the time she got back in her car, she felt like she might actually be sick. Leah arched her back, struggling to remove her jacket in the confines of the driver’s seat before shaking it out frantically.
“Please,” she said to herself, hoping it would fall out from one of the sleeves.
It didn’t.
She contorted her body, checking under the seats, in between the seats, under the pedals, next to the console.
Nothing.
“Shit,” she said again, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and letting her head fall back against the seat.
It was gone. She had lost it.
She had lost her mother’s bracelet.
Leah’s father had given it to her mother on their eighth wedding anniversary, the same day she had given birth to Leah’s little sister. Embedded in the white gold of the bracelet were three solitary diamonds. One for each baby she had given him, he had said.
Leah had always loved that bracelet, even before it was hers.
With a pathetic sniffle, she started the car and pulled dejectedly out onto the street. She had combed the deli, scoured the sidewalk, torn apart her purse, shook out her clothing, searched the car. Someone must have taken it. There was nowhere else it could be.
She approached the stoplight at the end of the street, still fighting tears, when suddenly it hit her.
Leah bolted upright in her seat. “Oh my God,” she said to herself, slamming on the brake before making an outrageously illegal U-turn in the middle of the intersection. The orchestra of horn blasts only served to amplify her urgency as she sped down the road that would take her back to her old house.
Traffic had started to pick up, making the ride back to the house twice as long as it should have been. By the time she pulled onto her old street, it was already dark. There were still no parking spaces on the road, so she pulled into the empty space in front of Catherine’s driveway again, throwing the car in park and not even bothering to turn it off before she jumped out. She ran to the gate and unlatched it, flinging it open as she bolted across the tiny yard.
Leah knocked on the door, standing up on her toes so she could see in the tiny window along the top of the door. After about a minute of silence, she knocked again, this time a bit more forcefully.
Still nothing.
Desperate and having no shame, she walked to the window on the side of the house, cupping her hands around the side of her face and pressing her nose against the glass. The house was completely dark.
“Damn it,” she whispered, walking back to her car and plopping inside before she slammed the door closed behind her. She reclined the seat and cranked up the heat, fully intending to wait there until Catherine returned.
Forty-five minutes later, she was starving, she had to go to the bathroom so badly she thought she might cry, and it had begun to snow. The lights were still off in the house, and no one had returned. Was it possible that Catherine had already turned in for the night? If that were the case, she would feel like a complete moron waking the poor woman up and dragging her out of bed for something that might be a lost cause anyway.
Whatever the case was, Leah knew she couldn’t stay there any longer.
With a frustrated sigh, she sifted through her purse and pulled out an old receipt and a pen, leaning on the dashboard to scribble a quick note to Catherine.
Catherine,
I think I may have lost my bracelet in your house. It’s really important to me, so if you find it, could you please give me a c
all?
She signed it with her name and her phone number before throwing the pen somewhere on the passenger seat and exiting the car.
Leah walked quickly through the side yard, blinking back the snowflakes that peppered her vision as she opened the screen door and closed the note inside before running back to the car.
Twenty minutes later, she had just merged onto I-95 when a loud bang nearly forced her heart out of her chest. She gripped the wheel firmly, glancing in her side-view mirror; she couldn’t see anything that she might have collided with, and it definitely didn’t feel like the car took a hit.
Just as her body began to relax back into the seat, the car began to pull awkwardly to the right.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Leah groaned, putting her blinker on and fighting her way through the traffic over to the shoulder. She put the car in park and crawled over the console, opening the passenger door and hanging her head outside as snowflakes clung to her hair and eyelashes. Sure enough, the right front tire was completely flat.
She collapsed back into the car, pulling the door closed behind her and covering her face with her hands.
Lucky day, indeed.
“Christopher, I swear to God, if I see your hand near this plate again, I’m chopping it off and making it the centerpiece.”
“Those are some tough words from someone who can’t even kill a spider,” her brother replied, reaching around her and grabbing another piece of salami off the plate of antipasto Leah was arranging.
She tried to grab his hand, but he was quicker, taking a step back and holding up the stolen piece of meat like Rafiki holding baby Simba in the opening sequence of The Lion King.
Leah tried to suppress her smile. “You’re a moron. We’re eating in like twenty minutes. Stop acting like an animal.”
He shoved the salami in his mouth as he leaned toward her, growling rabidly and chewing with his mouth open.
“Oh my God,” Leah said with a laugh, pushing him away. “Alexis! Come get your husband out of the kitchen before I kick his ass!”
Coming Home Page 2