He looked toward the house and prayed for Audrey to appear on the back porch. She was always the one with the level head when it came to crises with their kids. But even she would have plenty to say about this. He took a breath and forced a calm he didn’t feel into his voice. “Let me be sure I understand. Chase moved to a different apartment without telling you?”
“Oh, he told me, but not until after he’d already signed the new lease and sublet our old apartment. You should see this place, Dad. It’s one room—and that’s being generous. And Chase has his art studio set up in half of it. At least half. Everything else—including our bed—was supposed to go in the other half. You know how late he stays up sometimes to finish a painting. How was I supposed to get up at six every morning if I’m trying to sleep in his art studio with floodlights and his music blaring? It would have been outrageous for me to try to commute.”
“Well, he must have had a reason for doing that.” What was the kid thinking? “He did expect that you’d move with him, right?”
She shrugged, looking near tears. “He said he did. But it sure doesn’t seem like it. He didn’t even ask me, Dad.” She pounded the arm of the bench. “He just did it. Without even thinking how it would affect me. How it would affect us.”
“But . . . He must have some reason for making that decision.” He wanted to give his son-in-law the benefit of the doubt, but he was running out of excuses for Chase Spencer.
“He just said he felt like it was what we were supposed to do—as in what God wanted us to do.”
Grant winced before he could hide his emotions. Chase had gotten a rough start. But he’d turned into a good man. Or at least Grant had thought so. They’d seen a dramatic change in the kid over the past five or six years, watching him grow up in their church. And later, when they’d finally allowed Landyn to start dating Chase. It was a change Grant liked to take a little credit for, given how much time Chase had spent at the Whitman house. But enduring the childhood Chase did, and only coming to faith as a teen, their son-in-law had always been a little . . . radical in how he applied his faith. “So what does Chase think about you coming back here?”
“He doesn’t like it.” She looked down at her tennis shoes the way she had when she was a kid telling him she didn’t know who ate the last cookie. “But Dad, there’s nothing for me there anymore.”
“You do realize you’re calling your husband ‘nothing’ when you say that?”
“You know what I mean. I can’t live that way. Even if I could commute, we can’t make it on my salary alone there.”
“What do you mean? Chase still has his job. Right?”
She hung her head. “Not exactly a paying one.”
“Wait a minute. Chase quit his job too?” It was all Grant could do to keep his voice level. What were these stupid kids thinking? “So, what are you living on?”
Landyn looked at her lap, her face coloring. “He’s picking up some tutoring at the college, but he hasn’t gotten a real paycheck in over a month. He’s sold some art here and there, but we’ve mostly been living on my salary and the last of our wedding gift money.”
“Landyn! How long has this been going on?” His blood reached a rolling boil. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I knew you’d have a cow, just like you’re doing. It’s not like Chase isn’t working at all, Dad. He works harder than anybody I know. He’s determined to make it as an artist.”
“Fine, but his first priority should be providing for his family. Somebody needs to set him—”
The screen door slammed and Audrey came across the lawn toward them, waving. This news was going to break her heart. But as bad as he felt about that, he was relieved to see her, to have her input.
“You two look pretty serious,” Audrey said, when she got within earshot. “Am I interrupting something?”
“I was just telling Dad about Chase.”
“Oh.” Audrey gave him a hangdog look.
She may as well have slapped him. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?” This wasn’t how they operated. As long as he’d known his wife, they’d never kept secrets from each other.
She lifted one shoulder. “I knew a little, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it last night.”
Landyn hung her head. “I don’t think the whole world needs to know all the gory details. And I didn’t want to ruin your open house.”
He shot his wife a look meant to say “we’ll talk about this later.”
“Listen, Grant . . .” She answered his look as if he’d spoken the words. “It’s not like you and I have had all the time in the world to talk.”
He conceded her point with a sigh.
Audrey took a seat on the other side of Landyn and put an arm around her. “You want to fill me in?”
While Landyn spilled, Audrey shook her head and interjected “oh honey” and “I’m so sorry” where he had laid blame and chided Chase. Grant was sorry he’d immediately passed judgment on the kid, but even hearing the story a second time didn’t change his opinion. A man’s first responsibility was to take care of his wife. If he couldn’t do that, he had no business being married. Still, they were already married. Unless they’d gotten divorced and had failed to inform him of that, too. The thought was only halfway sarcastic.
Audrey reached for their daughter’s hand and clutched it between both of hers. “Is there anything else you want to tell us?”
Landyn looked up at her mother through hooded eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Honey . . .?” Audrey pressed.
Grant had no idea what she was getting at.
Apparently their daughter did. Her face crumpled and she threw herself into her mother’s arms. “Oh, Mom . . . What am I going to do?”
“What is going on?” He looked at Audrey over their daughter’s limp form and mouthed, “What?” He knew it was irrational, but he felt somehow betrayed by Landyn and Audrey both.
“Silly man.” Audrey reached to stroke his cheek before going back to stroking Landyn’s hair. “You’re going to be a grandpa again,” she whispered.
“Oh, dear Lord.” It was a prayer. A fervent one. Oh, he firmly believed children were a blessing from the Lord. But right now it looked for all the world that this particular blessing just might grow up under his roof—a frightening percent of which was still owned by the First Bank of Langhorne.
6
Downtown Cape Girardeau hadn’t changed a bit in the two years since Landyn had last been here. Corinne and Danae had invited her to meet them for a late lunch at Bella Italia. “But not too late,” Corinne had said. “We want to beat the Tuesday Happy Hour crowd.”
Landyn had spent yesterday helping Dad unload the U-Haul and return it to Cape Girardeau, then she’d helped Mom get the house—the inn—ready for guests tonight. It would feel weird to have strangers staying in the house. She was glad for an excuse to get away, and besides, she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her sisters since Saturday. She looked forward to catching up with them, but she was nervous too. She had a feeling they knew about her and Chase—and maybe about the baby too—but she needed to make it official. And she wasn’t sure how her sisters would feel about either piece of news.
Her two older sisters had always been closer to each other than to her, which was understandable since she’d come along later—after Link and Tim—the caboose of the family as her brothers called her. Even though she loved Corinne and Danae—and knew they loved her—she sometimes felt like a third wheel when the three of them were together. A much loved third wheel. But still . . . and her moving to New York had only widened the gap.
Through the window of the restaurant, she saw them at a table just inside. She waved, and taking a deep breath, pushed open the door and motioned to the hostess before weaving through the lunch crowd to the table. She slid into the chair across from Danae, with her back to the street. “Hey, sisters.”
“You look a little more rested than last time I saw you.” Corinne gave her
a one-armed hug.
“We already ordered.” Danae pushed a menu across the table to her. “Mom said you drove straight through from New York. That’s just crazy, Landyn.”
“I stopped a couple times and slept in the car. Mountain Dew and Starbucks were my copilots.”
Corinne made a face. “You should be careful, honey. All that caffeine’s not good for the baby.”
She hesitated. “Mom told you?”
Corinne glanced at Danae. “Actually, Dad told us.”
“Wow. News travels fast. Well, aren’t you going to say congratulations? Or something besides ‘don’t drink so much coffee’?”
“I wasn’t sure if . . . Dad made it sound like you weren’t too happy about the baby. But of course. Congratulations.” Corinne patted her back, making Landyn feel like she was twelve again.
“Congratulations, Landyn.” Danae’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m really happy for you guys.”
“It’s just”—Landyn shrugged—“really bad timing. For me and Chase both. Did they tell you about that situation, too?”
“Sort of,” Corinne admitted.
“Just so you guys know, Chase doesn’t know I’m pregnant.”
“What?” Corinne’s jaw dropped. “When were you planning to tell him? How could you keep something like this from him?”
She rubbed her stomach and tugged at her shirt. “I feel like I’m already showing. What’s up with that? When did you have to start wearing maternity clothes, Corinne?”
Her sisters exchanged a quick look, and Landyn braced herself for an onslaught, but Danae only rolled her eyes. “You are not showing, Landyn.”
“Depends on which kid you’re talking about.” It seemed Corinne was giving her an out, but Landyn knew her sister well enough to know she wasn’t finished with her questions about Chase. “With Sari I was so eager, I had my skinny bones in maternity tops at two weeks. By the time Simone came along, I waited till I absolutely couldn’t squeeze into my regular clothes anymore. But then styles are a little different now, too.” She tugged on the sleeve of Landyn’s shirt. “You can probably wear that top all but the last couple months. I’ve got some stuff—shirts and shorts—you can borrow if you want. If I can remember where I put them.”
“Just don’t wear them out,” Danae said. “I had dibs, remember.” She shot Corinne a look and reached for Landyn’s menu, studying it as if she hadn’t already ordered.
Landyn hadn’t thought how her news might affect her sister. Danae and Dallas had been trying to get pregnant for several years with no success. The last she’d heard from Mom, they were trying to save up for some kind of fertility treatments.
“Don’t worry, I’ll save everything for you,” Corinne said, patting Danae’s hand, her voice falsely bright. “You’ll probably be wearing them right behind Landyn.”
Danae took a sip of her coffee. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m sicker than a dog half the time and I feel fabulous the other half.”
Corinne laughed. “Sounds about right.”
Landyn touched Danae’s arm. “I’m sorry. I truly wish it was you and Dallas this had happened to.”
Her sister shrugged. “It’s not like you did it to spite me. And I’m happy for you. I really am. I just . . . I wish it was me.” Danae looked past her and tapped the menu. “Here comes our server. Do you know what you want? The meatball sandwich is to die for.”
Landyn shook her head. The mere sound of the word meatball turned her stomach.
The server set a glass of water in front of her. “Have you decided?”
“I think I’ll just have the minestrone. And maybe a small salad.”
“So, what is the scoop on Chase?” Danae asked as soon as the server was out of earshot. She seemed eager to change the subject.
Landyn gave them the short version.
“He’ll come to his senses.” Ever the big sister, Corinne patted her hand. “He loves you too much.”
“I know he loves me, but I think he loves his career more. He’s determined this is what we are supposed to do. Me, not so much. End of story.”
“Landyn . . . You can’t just give up on your marriage.” Corinne looked shell-shocked. “You haven’t even been married a year! And with the baby—”
“I haven’t given up on anything. I just don’t see that I have a choice right now. Can we talk about something else? Where are your munchkins?”
“Jesse’s mom has them.”
“That’s sure handy having them in Cape. How are they doing?”
“They’re good.”
Landyn scrambled for something to talk about and landed on the weather. “We should have sat out front. This might be our last chance before the weather goes south.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder toward the patio seating at the front of the restaurant. The afternoon sun canted beneath the awning and splashed inviting patches of light across the red-and-white checkered tablecloths.
She and Chase had sat out there on a hot August night on their first serious date. She pushed the thought away and prayed for their food to come.
Danae craned her neck to look past Landyn out the plate glass window. “Hey, that looks like— Isn’t that Chase right there?”
Even though she knew it couldn’t be him, Landyn’s stomach turned another somersault. She swiveled in her chair to follow her sisters’ lines of sight. “Where?”
“He went by already. I could swear it was him. Did you see him, Corinne?”
Landyn shook her head. “My husband, Chase?”
“What other Chase do we know? See, sis, I told you,” Corinne said, smiling. “He loves you enough to come after you.” She studied the street outside the window.
“Chase is in New York. You need to have your eyes checked, Danae.”
“Well, if it wasn’t him, he has a twin brother.”
“It better not be him. He can barely pay the rent on the stupid studio, let alone buy a plane ticket back to Missouri. Besides, he’s not going to just show up without letting me know he’s coming back.”
Or was he? Suddenly showing up out of the blue sounded like exactly the kind of thing Chase Spencer might do. Especially if God told him to. She had to work to not roll her eyes at the thought.
The server appeared with their food, and her sisters dived in like they hadn’t eaten for weeks. But Landyn picked at her salad and couldn’t keep from surreptitiously checking the storefront window over her shoulder. She knew how unlikely it was that it was Chase Danae had seen, but the idea that he might show up in town filled her with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify.
Was it hope? All she knew was, she wished Danae had never seen Chase’s supposed look-alike because now, she missed her husband more than ever. And she was starting to think maybe she needed to high-tail it back to New York and try to talk some sense into the man’s head. Because as much as she wanted a baby some day, she could not do this alone.
But neither was she going to use this baby to manipulate her husband. They had to resolve things before she told him the news. Chase had to decide to work things out because he loved her and wanted to be with her, not because he felt obligated since she was carrying his baby.
7
It was still too hot to relish pulling warm linens from the dryer, but Audrey was not complaining about the six loads of laundry she’d done this morning. Those fresh-smelling sheets and fluffy towels were evidence of guests—paying guests—at the inn. A couple more weekends like this and they might have enough to pay this month’s mortgage without dipping into what was left of their meager savings.
She blew out a breath at the absurdity of the thought. With the exception of a couple of years when she and Grant had three kids in college at the same time, they’d never struggled to pay their bills. Grant had always made good money as a contractor, and he’d invested well with their savings and later with the money she’d inherited when her father died. It was that inheritance that had given her the leverage to convince Gr
ant the Chicory Inn was a viable investment.
But it seemed the more they’d torn out of the original house, the more problems they’d unearthed. In the end, though they’d ended up with almost a brand new home, they’d also sunk most of their savings into the project. She’d lost many a good night’s sleep worrying about how they’d recoup that loss before they needed money to retire on.
She pulled a queen-size fitted sheet from the dryer and wrestled it into submission. She frowned, remembering how she’d argued that running a B&B would be like being retired. “Just like being retired and hanging out with company every day,” she’d chirped—like an ostrich with its head in the sand. She did enjoy having guests, but it was anything but leisurely.
“Here, you need a hand with that?”
She jumped, but Grant stilled her, kissing the back of her neck.
“You scared me! But your timing couldn’t be better.” She shook out the sheet and Grant caught the opposite corners. He met her in the middle and they did the sheet-folding dance that had become sweetly familiar over the past month. Her husband had never folded a sheet in his life before they opened the inn. But since then, he’d been all in with her when it came to housekeeping. Audrey loved the feeling of partnership running the inn had given them. She just hoped that partnership feeling extended to paying the bills.
With the sheet folded in quarters, she met him again with her half, and wrapped him in a hug, the still warm sheet sandwiched between them. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get between the sheets with me?”
He gave a wry laugh and kissed her forehead. “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
She shushed him and put a stack of folded linens in his arms, then motioned for him to follow her upstairs.
“This looks promising . . .”
“Don’t get your hopes up, buddy. We have guests checking in at four.”
“Rats!” Grant snapped his fingers. “Well, a man can hope,can’t he?”
“Oh, there’s always hope. And extra brownie points if you’ll help me get this room put together.”
Home to Chicory Lane (9781426796074) Page 5