Home to Chicory Lane (9781426796074)

by Raney, Deborah;

  “Thank you, sir. And yes, I’m prepared.”

  “Maybe you’d better prepare for thirty years, if these kids are anything like their parents.”

  “Hey!” Landyn protested. But she couldn’t quit smiling. Chase, too. For once it was good to have happy news to share.

  * * *

  Audrey woke early on Monday to the sound of the washing machine running on the second floor. She left Grant sleeping and tiptoed downstairs to see what was going on. Landyn and Chase had slept in Landyn’s old room, and the only other room occupied was on the main floor in the handicap accessible room—a couple here to celebrate their sixtieth anniversary.

  She found Landyn stuffing sheets in the washer. “Honey, you don’t have to do that. I can do the laundry after you guys leave. We don’t need your room till the weekend. In fact, you and Chase can stay another night or two if you like.”

  “No, it’s okay, Mom. We already told CeeCee we’d be there tonight.”

  Audrey had to turn away to hide the tears. Less than three short weeks ago she’d been near tears of anger over the same laundry. Maybe her little girl was growing up after all. She composed herself and cleared her throat. “Is Chase up already, too?”

  Landyn nodded. “He’s in the shower. He’s going in to Cape this morning to see about the insurance. I don’t know how soon we’ll get a check, but if Chase can find out how much we’re getting for my car, we might go car shopping this afternoon.”

  “Well, thanks for helping out with the bedding.”

  “I’ll get them in the dryer later.”

  “Actually, I’ve been hanging them on the line to dry. I like the way they smell.” That was true, but more true was the fact that it saved on electricity.

  “Well, if you’re sure . . .” Landyn filled the fabric softener dispenser and shut the lid on the washer.

  Audrey studied her daughter. “Are you feeling okay today? Your eye looks a little better than it did last night.”

  “Does it?” She gingerly touched the spot under her eye. “I haven’t even looked in the mirror yet this morning. It doesn’t hurt. Everything else does, but my eye feels fine.”

  “You’re bound to be stiff and sore after that. Your dad said Chase was pretty shook up when he saw your car.”

  Landyn looked surprised. “I haven’t seen it yet. I mean . . . I guess I have, but I don’t really remember. I don’t think I was ever unconscious or anything, but it’s all kind of a blur. But Chase said the insurance guy thought it was totaled.”

  Now Audrey let the tears come. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I—” She couldn’t finish.

  Landyn reached for her. “I’m fine, Mom. It all turned out okay.” She no doubt read Audrey’s thoughts.

  Audrey took a deep breath and forced herself to . . . trust. She’d survived the death of one child. She wasn’t sure she could lose another one and be okay with it. With God.

  She pulled away. “I need to go start breakfast. Will Chase be back in time?”

  “Knowing him, he’ll probably snag a donut in Cape. Don’t worry about us. I’ll just have some yogurt . . . if that’s okay.”

  The tears were close again. “Honey, of course it’s okay. I— I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel unwelcome here. I’ve been so worried about—”

  “No, Mom. It’s okay. You didn’t make me feel unwelcome—” She stopped and gave a wry smile. “Well, maybe a little bit. But I wasn’t a very thoughtful guest either. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do better at CeeCee’s.”

  “Stop,” Audrey chided. “I know you will. And Cecilia will love having you. And I’ll miss you.”

  “Nah . . .” Landyn gave her a playful shove. “I bet you can’t wait to get rid of us.”

  “Never.” She started down the stairs. “Who would do my laundry?”

  Her daughter’s soft laughter followed her down.

  34

  Chase prayed all the way to the insurance agency in Cape Girardeau. They simply had to get enough money for the Honda to replace it with something halfway decent. His Toyota would get them around while they were back here in Missouri, but given that the car was older than he was, it was not a long-term solution. He doubted it would make it back to New York even one more time. But he also didn’t see any way they could take on a car payment. They’d be doing good to come up with the money to rent a place and feed themselves.

  Chase only had to wait ten minutes before Hank, their insurance agent, had news for him. “We’ll be able to cut you a check in a few days. There’s no question the vehicle is totaled.” He swiveled his computer screen Chase’s way and showed him the amount the check would be.

  It was a disappointingly low number. Especially after the deductible. Sure, it could have been worse, but it wasn’t nearly what they’d hoped. They would definitely be trading down. Or driving his Toyota till it died. Which wouldn’t be long.

  “You said you had damage to your vehicle, too?”

  Chase gave a short laugh. “I did, but you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference from the dings it had in it before the storm.” He reminded the man that they only had collision coverage on his car.

  “You realize you could get a significant savings if you’d insured both of your vehicles with us.”

  Chase explained about his father-in-law paying Landyn’s insurance in advance. “I don’t know how much you could save us on an old beater like my old Toyota, but next time her premium comes due, we’ll sure keep it in mind.”

  “That your car out front?” The agent pointed through the venetian blinds to where his car was parked.

  “It is.” Chase told him briefly about the car and how Frank Granger had sold it to him.

  “That’s a good vehicle. A ’79, right?”

  Chase nodded.

  “That was a good year. Those things keep their value better than most. Yours is low miles, too. I can recommend a good body shop. Assuming you’re wanting to get it fixed.”

  Chase winced. “Probably can’t afford that. Especially now.” He nodded toward the computer screen that held the anemic check information.

  “Well, let’s take a look.” The agent walked him out to the sidewalk and circled the car. Twice. “You’re not looking to sell this one, are you?”

  “I wasn’t planning on it. Figured it was pretty much scrap. Why?”

  “I’ve got a friend at one of the body shops we use who’s been looking for this make and model. I think he’d pay you pretty decent money for it.”

  “Seriously? As is?”

  “He’s looking for one to refurbish. If you’re interested I can give him a call.”

  “Can you give me a ballpark figure?”

  He shook his head. “No clue. I’d have to talk to him first.”

  Chase shrugged. “Sure. I guess it can’t hurt to see if he’s interested.” He hated to get his hopes up, but if they could get any decent amount for his car, they might come out of this okay.

  Hank, the insurance guy, called his buddy Rick and gave Chase directions to the body shop.

  Rick came out and inspected the Toyota inside and out. When the mechanic ran his hands over the worst of the dings on the left front fender, Chase prepared himself for the letdown.

  But Rick straightened and scratched his head. “I’d give you six thousand for it.”

  “Six thousand?” It was all Chase could do not to let out a whoop, but he managed to remain pokerfaced. “Why—do you want it?”

  Rick grinned. “It was a good year. Good car. I had one just like it when I was in high school. Same color even.” He hooked a thumb toward the vehicle. “In fact, when I first saw you drive up in it, I thought it was my car. Sold that one when I got married. Regretted it ever since. I could probably go sixty-five-hundred . . .”

  “Yeah. Sure . . . I’d be interested in selling it for that.” Wait till he told Landyn. She would freak.

  He would have given just about anything to be able to tell Mr. Granger what a gift he’d actually bestowed back
when he’d sold Chase that car for five hundred dollars. But then, even in his old age, Frank Granger had been a car whiz. Maybe he did know.

  The thought brought a lump to Chase’s throat.

  * * *

  “Are you serious? Oh, Chase. That’s amazing!” She wanted to skip all the way down to the creek. “Sixty-five hundred dollars? That’s—a fortune.”

  “It is.” Chase beamed with a confidence she hadn’t seen in her husband for a while. It did her heart good. Maybe they hadn’t exactly turned a corner yet, but at least they could survive for a few more weeks.

  Huckleberry trotted between them, then dashed off to chase a squirrel. It felt good to be out in the crisp morning air. And to get away from the obnoxious old man who was regaling her parents at the breakfast table. She made a mental note about future career choices: bed-and-breakfast? No. Never in a million years. Her mom was perfectly cut out for the job, and Landyn could see how much she enjoyed it. At breakfast, Mom had let Mr. Blowhard tell his stories, and she’d laughed in all the right places and been her gracious self.

  The only thing that had saved Landyn from saying something rude—or at least pulling her hair out—was Chase’s arrival home. She’d steered him away from the house and they’d gone on a nostalgic walk down to the creek and the climbing tree so he could tell her his wonderful news about the car.

  “Are you kind of sad to be selling it?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe a little. That car has been very good to me. And . . . it’s got a lot of memories tied to it.”

  “Frank Granger?”

  “And Landyn Whitman.”

  She smiled up at him. “Oh, yeah. Her. Shoot, now you’re making me sad to see it go.”

  “Well, we could keep it.”

  “Not that sad.”

  He laughed. “So you think we can get by with one car—if it’s a decent one?”

  “I think that makes the most sense. But”—she patted her belly—“it might have to be a minivan.”

  He made a face that cracked her up.

  Huck came running again and Chase found a stick and played catch with the Lab the rest of the way to the creek.

  When they got to the climbing tree Landyn knelt to scratch Huck’s neck. “Maybe we could get a dog.”

  “Let’s not go crazy. That would eat up a good chunk of our windfall.”

  “Good grief, what kind of dog are you thinking about? I’m just thinking a mutt from the pound or something.”

  “I’m not talking about the cost of the dog. I’m talking about food and shots and vet bills and replacing chewed up shoes and—”

  “Okay, okay . . . Point taken. Maybe we should adjust to having twins before we complicate things.”

  “Excellent idea, Mrs. Spencer.”

  “Chase—When that nurse told us the babies were due in April—”

  “Maybe before. Remember Dr. Meier said twins can come early.”

  She nodded, sobered by the thought. “It just—it made me feel really bad that I didn’t tell you sooner. We should have had nine months just enjoying everything about having our first baby, and I feel like I stole that time from you.”

  He reached for her hand and kissed it. “We’ll never know for sure, but knowing me like I do, I’d probably have wasted all that time freaking out and trying to get used to the idea.”

  He leaned against the trunk of the massive Osage Orange tree and reached for her. Strong arms pulled her close, until her back was pressed against his chest. She relaxed in the circle of his embrace, and they watched the creek babble, carrying the last of fall’s leaves on its crest.

  “Tell you what,” he said after a while. “Let’s spend these next months making up for lost time. Sure, we have a ton of stuff to do—and a lot of big decisions to make. But let’s celebrate being pregnant as if we had nine months to get used to the idea.”

  She looked up over her shoulder at him. “I like that plan. And boy, is it going to make time fly.”

  “Ah, it is a plan, isn’t it? One thing we’ve decided.”

  She laughed and snuggled back against him.

  But his demeanor was serious. “I want to do this dad thing right, Landyn. I don’t want to mess this up. But . . . I’m going to need help.”

  “Every dad needs help, babe. Every mom, too. This stuff doesn’t just come naturally.”

  “Yeah, well, it seems like it does to your parents.”

  “Baby, they’d been parents for twenty-some years by the time you met them. You’ll be a pro at this too by the time our babies are twenty.”

  “Stop.” He made a face. “I don’t even want to think about having twenty-year-old kids.”

  She giggled. “I know. It’s kind of freaky to think about, isn’t it.”

  “Let’s not think about it.” He drew her closer, pushed a curl off her temple, and kissed the spot. “I can think of better things to occupy our thoughts.”

  “I got my first kiss from you right under this very tree.”

  “Don’t think I don’t remember. You made me work so hard for that kiss.”

  “I was playing hard-to-get, but oh, man, did I ever want you to catch me.”

  “And now that you’re caught?”

  She started to give a flirtatious answer, but Chase looked so serious she drew back and turned to face him. “Now that I’m caught I don’t ever want you to let go.”

  He shook his head. “Me neither. I hated living alone in Brooklyn. It’s . . . it’s just not the same without you.”

  “I know. It really is kind of like missing your other half, isn’t it?”

  He held her tighter. “I never really got that Scripture until now.”

  “What Scripture?”

  “The two shall become one. It’s not just about sex.”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you that,” she teased.

  “Well, I get it now. Not that I don’t appreciate the other.” He wriggled his eyebrows.

  That made her laugh. And earned him another kiss.

  35

  Is everything going okay at CeeCee’s?” Grant pulled another box of Christmas decorations down from the attic, trying to be casual with his question. But he was prepared to press Chase for an honest answer. An answer he was pretty sure he could predict.

  The kids had been staying with his mother for almost a week now, and while she was beyond delighted with her house guests, judging by the stories CeeCee had told him and Audrey, those poor kids hadn’t had a minute to themselves since they arrived.

  Chase hefted a box onto one shoulder. “We’re really grateful for a place to stay. And CeeCee’s cooking is amazing.”

  “Chase.” He cleared his throat. “I appreciate your diplomacy, but I know a hedge when I hear one.”

  Chase slanted a sheepish grin Grant’s way. “CeeCee is—well, Landyn would say ‘high maintenance.’ But sweet as they come,” Chase added quickly.

  “That, she is. But the question is, have you been able to get any work done?”

  “I—I’m working on a—” He slid the box to the floor and his shoulders slumped. “Honestly, Grant, no. I’m not getting much art done at all. Between CeeCee and Landyn I feel like I’m on call every minute. Gotta love ’em both but”—he rolled his eyes—“let’s just say ‘high maintenance’ is the pot calling the kettle black.”

  That made Grant laugh out loud.

  “To be fair,” Chase said, “all the stuff with the car insurance and shopping for another vehicle, plus Landyn’s doctor appointments and dealing with the sublease on the Brooklyn apartment . . . All that stuff is a big part of it too—why I feel like I’m not getting anything done.”

  “I hear you. That extracurricular stuff is the bane of my life. And I hate to tell you, but it doesn’t get better with age. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. But I’m guessing it’s harder for you when you don’t have an office building to hide away at.” He hoped Chase didn’t take that as an indictment of his work-at-home status. He still wasn’t convinced Cha
se could make a living as an artist, but he truly hadn’t meant his comment that way.

  Grant cleared his throat. “Would I be prying too much to ask if you and Landyn have made any decisions yet? About where you’ll live? Or . . . at least how you’re leaning?”

  “No, not at all.” Chase picked up the box marked Twinkle Lights again.

  “I’d really like to explore how far I can go with this art career. I feel like I had some momentum going and I hate to waste that. Landyn likes New York, but I don’t see how we can stay in the Brooklyn apartment with two babies.” He panned the spacious attic. “I think you could fit two of those studios in here.”

  “Grant?” Audrey’s voice lilted up the stairs.

  Grant hoisted the heaviest box. “Let’s get this stuff down to her before she comes looking for us.” Audrey was eager to get the inn decorated for a couple of early Christmas parties that were booked at the inn. She’d taken down most of the autumn and Thanksgiving decorations and already had the living room decorated to the hilt for Christmas. It looked nice too. Very festive and warm—which Audrey excelled at.

  Chase stacked a smaller box atop the one he was carrying and followed Grant down two flights of stairs. They deposited the boxes in the front hall where Audrey was perched precariously on a tall ladder.

  Grant went to the bottom of the ladder and looked up at her. “What are you trying to do here, Mrs. Whitman? Besides break a leg . . .”

  “I want this garland all along the woodwork here and the wainscoting below. Swooping like so—” She held tight to the top of the ladder with her left hand and swept the right dramatically, demonstrating.

  “Why don’t you let us boys take over here? If you trust us.”

  “I would gladly turn this over to you. I won’t even stay to supervise.” She did, however, give them a few more detailed instructions about how she wanted it done, before climbing down and retreating to the kitchen, where something delicious-smelling simmered on the stove, filling the house with the heady aromas of cinnamon and apples.