A Future for His Twins

by Susanne Dietze

  “Okay?” He’d expected an argument.

  “You’re right. I’ll fret if I’m home alone. So what should I bring?”

  “Just yourself. Come after you close the store.”

  “Okay.” She walked backward. “Thanks, Tom. It’s a nice thing you’re doing for me.”

  He hoped so, but there was a lot of selfishness in his invitation, too. He wanted to be with her one more time before the city council presentations.

  Because tomorrow, everything would change. Only one of them would get the old livery. If Faith received permission to turn it into her museum, Tom would be happy for her, but he’d be frustrated, too. He needed that building so he could be on Main Street for the sake of his twins.

  If he received permission to start his store on Main Street, she’d be happy for him, too, wouldn’t she? And just as frustrated that she lost?

  What would that look like in their relationship?

  They’d stay civil, sure, but tomorrow, no matter how things turned out at the council meeting, their friendship might be dealt a fatal blow.

  The idea carved a hole in his gut.

  Chapter Twelve

  Faith rubbed her full stomach. It was a good thing they were heading out back for a post-dinner walk along the creek, because she needed to work off some of the garlic bread and spaghetti Tom had prepared before dessert. “I’ve never had Danishes for dessert, but I’m excited. I’ve been thinking about them all day, since you mentioned them earlier.”

  As they made their way to the sliding glass door to the backyard, Nora tapped the plate of plastic-wrapped pastries with dollops of jewel-bright jellies in their centers. “When we come back from our walk, you can choose between raspberry, apricot and cherry.”

  “Apricot, definitely.” Faith’s favorite.

  Tom met Faith’s gaze as he donned a green down vest over his plaid shirt, a color that made his already-dark eyes deepen to ink. “Do you want a jacket?”

  Earlier this afternoon, temperatures had dipped, so after work Faith had changed into a bronze-colored turtleneck and jeans. The creamy scarf she’d wrapped around her shoulders added an extra layer of warmth. “I’m fine.”

  Tom clipped Roscoe’s leash to his collar and led them out the sliding back door. The spring evening smelled of young leaves, fresh grass and musky flowering pear blossoms. Tom’s cologne laced the air, too, which had to be the absolute best thing on the market, whatever it was.

  No, Latham, she chastised herself as if she were giving Roscoe a talking to.

  The kids had already run across the yard and pulled on the locked gate. “Can we walk to the big boulder?” Logan pointed to the right.

  “Not tonight. Too far.” Tom glanced back at Faith. “I don’t want them out at the creek unsupervised, so I have to lock the gate.”

  Faith had wandered the creek alone plenty in her childhood, and Widow’s Peak Creek was a quiet town, but times had changed. Besides, Tom had other reasons for keeping close watch on his children. “Safety first. I get it.”

  “I can be paranoid when it comes to the kids.” He rolled his eyes at himself before unlocking the latch and letting the kids free.

  “I wouldn’t use that word. I’d say responsible,” she countered.

  “Ender says I need to trust God more.”

  “We all do, but that doesn’t mean you should let your kids play near the creek without an adult. They’re six, Tom.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Faith breathed deeply of the sweet evening air as they walked on the dirt path along the creek. “This is wonderful. The sun hasn’t gone down yet, the creek is bubbling, the birds are singing.”

  “The kids are yelling loud enough to bug the neighborhood,” he continued in imitation of her sing-song tone.

  She laughed. “They’re happy. So’s Roscoe.”

  The dog pattered just ahead of them on the leash, wagging his thick tail.

  “I was worried the kids would have trouble adjusting to our move, but they’re doing great so far.”

  “Prayer helps, and I’m sure you’ve been doing a lot of that.”

  “I have. That and focusing on them and the store. This is the extent of my social life, beyond coffee with Ender.”

  “Well, we need to do something about that, then.”

  The minute she said it, anxiety gripped her chest. Did that sound like she was fishing? Like she wanted to go on a date with him? Because she didn’t.

  Actually, she did. She wanted him to pick her up and twirl her around like he had earlier today, leaving her breathless and giddy.

  But she was not fishing. And she and Tom were not a good pair. They were competitors. In completely different places in life. They wanted different things. So she shrugged like the matter was trivial. “You and Ender, I mean.”

  His silence surprised her enough that she looked back at him. His gaze was fixed on the ground ahead of them, like he watched his kids’ feet. “Yeah, the whole lack of a social life thing has been on purpose.”

  “Sure. Grieving is—well, I can’t imagine what the three of you have gone through.” The loss of her grandparents was like a wound that was sometimes still tender to touch. But Tom’s loss? How much worse must it be? “I’m sure you miss your wife terribly.”

  “Of course. Lourdes will always be a part of me and the kids. But grief changes, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Thinking of her grandparents didn’t sting in quite the same way anymore.

  “I just don’t want to leave the kids at all, and if I did, my parents would hound me about it. They’re convinced I’ll ignore the kids because I wasn’t around much in San Francisco, even though Lourdes wanted me to work the way I did. I feel like they’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  That didn’t seem very supportive of his parents. “You’re a great dad, Tom. Everyone can see that. Dredging up the past like that can’t be helpful.”

  “I get it, though. I get it like a punch in the gut with each new milestone the kids reach, because I wasn’t around for the earlier ones. They’re losing teeth now. I was at a conference when they got teeth as babies. They’re getting ready for me to take the training wheels off their bikes, but I missed them riding tricycles. I can never forget it, never forgive myself for not being there. But my parents want to ensure I don’t forget, either. Even though I promised them my life would be nothing but the kids and a balanced work life—no relationships, no nothing—they don’t seem to believe me.”

  No relationships.

  Well, at least now she could confirm—to herself, when she was weak, thinking about Tom—that they were solidly in the friend zone, which was best for everyone. Even though it felt like two factions of emotion warred each other within her rib cage. Relief, because her attraction to Tom was fruitless and she hadn’t wanted to be in a relationship anyway. But also grief, because part of her shouted that her feelings went beyond attraction. She was in danger of falling in love with the guy—

  Step back from that pool of quicksand, Latham. Being in danger of something isn’t the same as actually being in it. You still have a chance to save yourself.

  Since they were friends, though, she would try to be a good one. “You’re a great dad, Tom. I’ve seen it. Is it possible your parents are overreacting?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t want to blow it again, Faith.”

  “You won’t blow it.”

  “I chose work over my family before. I’m capable of doing it again. And once the store gets up and running? What if I get lost in work again, like I did before Lourdes died?”

  “You’re not the same person you were a year ago. Six months ago, even. That’s the work of God in you, and you doing all you can to set your priorities right.”

  His dark eyes met hers, blazing in their intensity. Oh, no, here she went again, weak-kneed and jittery.
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  “You’re right, Faith. Thank you.”

  She wanted to say something pithy and funny to lighten the moment. Instead, all she could manage was, “You’re welcome.”

  Slick.

  Nora yelled back at them. “Can we cross the bridge?”

  They’d stopped at one of the footbridges connecting neighborhoods on either side of the creek. It was a charming picture-taking spot for kids going to prom and family photos, a place to capture memories.

  Faith may not have a camera, but she’d never forget this moment, both kids looking back at her and their dad, their sweet faces eager.

  “Sure, just don’t lean over the side,” Tom called, watching the kids but not hurrying to join them. They took their time getting to the bridge, letting the kids run over it several times before they crossed it with Roscoe to the other side of the creek. A wide path between two backyards opened to a neighborhood street, and Tom glanced at his watch. “Five minutes over here and then we should probably walk back.”

  “Aww,” Logan groaned.

  “It’s a school night. Plus, there are Danishes waiting at home.”

  “And you and I have a big day tomorrow, too,” she reminded Tom. Early bed wouldn’t be a bad idea. “Thanks for inviting me over as a distraction.”

  “Did it work?”

  “It did. I haven’t thought of my presentation at all tonight. Or Chloe leaving on Wednesday.”

  “Have you two had a good visit?”

  “Better than I expected. We’re still very different, but she’s here, you know? It’s an answer to prayer.” Evidence of God working on her relationship with her sister. She mustn’t lose sight of that.

  Nor should she lose sight of the other blessings this rivalry had brought, like her strange friendship with Tom and the kids. And the fact that she’d decided to trust God for the outcome, which filled her anew with an inexplicable peace. “You’re going to do great tomorrow at city council.”

  “So will you.” Tom beckoned the kids to turn back with them. “I’m going to pray we both sleep well tonight and do our best.”

  “I like that, Tom. Thanks.”

  It was yet one more thing to add to the list of things to like about Tom Santos.

  What number am I on, Lord? A hundred and twelve? The smile he gave her was definitely number two on the list. Number one was the way he loved his kids, which made her insides get all squishy when she saw him interact with them. Like it did right now, when he teased and ran with the kids over the bridge.

  Clearly, she wasn’t doing very well putting her attraction for him into a box that she could lock up and throw away the key.

  * * *

  The next morning, however, Faith found yet one more thing to like about Tom when she spied him outside the city council building dressed in a gray suit—clean-shaven. As good as he looked all scruffy, he looked just as good, if not better, like this.

  What number is that, now, God? A hundred and thirteen?

  His admiring glance took in her jade green dress and cream-colored blazer. “You look nice.”

  “So do you,” she blurted. Understatement of the year.

  Chloe caught up to them, carrying the paper cup of coffee she’d just bought from a street vendor half a block down. “Hi, Tom. You guys ready to go inside?”

  Faith glanced at Chloe’s full cup. “They probably won’t let you take your drink in there.”

  “I’ll hurry.” She blew on the steaming black brew.

  Tom met Faith’s gaze. “Are you ready, Faith? Doing okay?”

  What a far cry from where they’d been less than two weeks ago when he showed up with the mayor to look at the old livery. “I’m nervous, but yes. The shop is closed so Angie can be here and I could focus on preparing for this. But instead of going over my presentation, I’ve been praying. For both of us. However this plays out, God will still be in charge, right?”

  “Right. And no matter what happens, I hope you and I will still be friends, Faith.”

  Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how awful it would be if they didn’t stay friends. She’d miss the kids like crazy. And Roscoe’s nudges. And him, of course. A thousand times him.

  “I’d like that, Tom.”

  Tom’s parents came up the sidewalk, wearing Sunday-best clothes and smiles, which turned to frowns once they saw her with Tom. She forced a smile. “Good morning, Mr. Santos, Mrs. Santos.”

  Roberto nodded, but Elena didn’t meet Faith’s gaze. “Big day. Let’s go, Tom. You don’t want any distractions right now.”

  He hesitated like he had something else to say, but then he nodded. “See you inside.”

  “Bye.” Faith wouldn’t mind taking her seat anyway, so she could go through her notes. “Are you almost done with your espresso?”

  “Close.” Chloe took another sip. “Tom may be the enemy, but he looks good in that suit, doesn’t he, Faith?”

  Thanks to prayer, Faith was calmer than she’d expected to be, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have any nerves at all—and Chloe’s comment had just made them come to life. “I thought you weren’t interested in him.”

  “I’m not, but you are, sure as this espresso is not up to my usual standards.”

  Faith blinked. “I don’t even know what you mean.”

  “This espresso is awful.”

  “I meant about Tom.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “You like him, and he likes you.”

  “Nope.” She’d laugh if it weren’t so ridiculous.

  “Yep.” Chloe tossed her half-full cup into the nearest trash can.

  “No.” Faith had to lower her voice. “For one, I am not interested in another relationship like my last one.” Her only real relationship.

  “Seriously? You’re letting the memory of that lawyer guy you dated keep you from having any sort of life now? What was his name, your old boyfriend? You’re still hung up on him?” Chloe led the way up the concrete stairs to the door of city hall.

  “Brad.” Faith held her sister back so they wouldn’t be overheard by half the town. “And of course I’m over him. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the lesson I learned from him. Brad and I gelled in some ways, but we ultimately valued different things. Well, Tom and I value different things, too. I don’t want to be like Mom and Dad, complaining all the time about the other’s interests. I want to be with someone who cares about the things I do.”

  “First of all, Mom and Dad didn’t set a good example for us when it comes to relationships. Second, if you’re talking about sharing a love of antiques with a man, that’d be great, but I think you’re off base. You should look for someone who values God and family and this town. Who cares whether that guy is a nut over gramophones or tintypes? Tom is the sort of person who’d be excited for you when you find something when you’re off antiquing. And if he liked baseball or camping, that’s not a deal breaker. You’d be happy for him to enjoy his passions even if you don’t understand them. You and Tom have differences, but learning about the other has seemed to enrich you, not deplete you.”

  Faith had to push her emotions down hard before they clogged her throat. “Okay, maybe. A little. But friendship is all there will ever be between us, and you know what? This totally is not the time to discuss it.” She strode into the lobby of city hall.

  “I brought it up because you were looking at each other like moon-eyed saps.”

  “We were not. He has no interest in dating. He told me, so can we drop this now?”

  Chloe gaped. “Of course we can’t. Spill the beans, woman.”

  Why did they have to do this outside of the council chamber? “He’s focused on his kids and nothing else, okay? No relationships. So there’s no future.”

  Only once she said it out loud did she recognize the ache in her stomach that had nothing to do with today’s meeting, or
the museum or anything related to work.

  It was Tom. She did have feelings for him. Not ones she wanted to examine too closely, but...something.

  And Chloe was right—Tom was nothing like Brad. Or either of her parents, who disregarded the aspects of Faith’s life that didn’t interest them. Tom was open to them, and she’d opened up to things in his world, too.

  If things were different, she might have wanted to date Tom. But he wasn’t available, and she had a choice to make where he was concerned. Friends or nothing.

  She chose friends. Hands down.

  Fortunately, Chloe couldn’t continue to badger her because the wave of folks in suits and pencil skirts heading toward the council chamber crested over them, and they had to go inside. Time to transition back to the moment and not think about Tom. Museum, museum, museum.

  Faith’s stomach buzzed like a hive of nerves. It was difficult not to look at the horseshoe-shaped desks on a dais where Mayor Hughes and the other members of the city council would sit in mere moments. Or at Tom, who sat beside his parents and Ender in the front row, smiling at her.

  His wasn’t the only smile, though. Maeve sat near the front of the audience. So did Angie. Even Kellan was here, along with a few other shop owners from Main Street.

  “You can do this,” Chloe said.

  Faith couldn’t speak anymore. All she could do was nod and find a seat so she could organize her presentation materials.

  This is it, God. If this is Your will, You’ll see it done. And if it isn’t? I’ll need Your help to know what to do next.

  She let out a breath and met Tom’s gaze as the meeting came to order.

  Showtime.

  * * *

  By the time Faith was finished with her presentation, Tom was half-ready to vote for it himself. If he had a vote, that is. She’d laid out the need for a central place for tourists to stop in Widow’s Peak Creek, like a museum dedicated to its history. She’d clearly brushed up on her knowledge of funding and revenue issues, sharing statistics from neighboring Gold Country communities. She talked about the town landmarks, from the big boulder to what was left of the Raven Mine, and how the town would benefit from a heritage fund to preserve sites, working in tandem with the museum.