Hope Heals

by Tymber Dalton

  She realized she was babbling. Not knowing what else to do, she crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to ogle the hunk. She’d just said more to him than she had during their entire four years of high school together.

  He nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad to hear he’s doing okay.” He glanced at the ground. He wore faded jeans over laced work boots, and a faded orange T-shirt with a logo for Hope Landscaping and Lawn Maintenance over the left chest. His cousin had worn a similar outfit. The shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination and defined his lean, sculpted form. His skin had been tanned by many days out working under the Florida sun, and deep creases sat at the corners of his eyes. “Walt, uh, told us a little about the situation with your ex. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks,” she softly said. She didn’t know what else to say.

  “But, you know, no rush. Take your time getting settled in. Whenever you can get over in the next couple of days. Your dad has our number. We’ll sit down and go through everything with you. It’s pretty easy, just tedious. No taxes to do. Our CPA does all that for us.”

  “Yeah, sounds good. I truly appreciate it.”

  He shrugged and looked up, meeting her gaze. “Walt’s a great guy. I know we weren’t really close or anything in school, but we like your dad. This works out good for you and us both.”

  He started to say something else, but then they heard the sound of someone hitting a metal can.

  They both looked down the driveway, where Pete stood and yelled, “Heeeey, Big Mac! Breakfast! Yoooo, Big Mac!”

  Big Mac’s head shot up before he took off at a gallop up the driveway. It caught Sam by surprise. Sarah reached out and grabbed his other arm, saving him from falling over when his bovine support disappeared right out from under him.

  He laughed. “Thanks.” They watched the steer race up the driveway toward Pete, who ran through the gate and into the pasture where he dumped something onto the ground. The steer followed him. A moment later, he was driving back down to meet them with Big Mac now securely fenced in his pasture.

  She stepped out of the way so Pete could pull out of the driveway. Sam walked around the front of the truck and climbed into the passenger side while Pete rolled his window down and handed her an old coffee can with a screwdriver sitting inside it.

  “Walt keeps his feed in a metal garbage can just inside the door of the big garage. The screwdriver was lying on his workbench. You just put the coffee can back into the garbage can.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. He gets out every once in a while, from our place or yours. Your dad probably didn’t get the gate latch fastened all the way. Just grab a can of food and he’ll come running.”

  “I guess I’ve got a lot to learn. We never had livestock when I was growing up.”

  Sam leaned forward so he could speak around his cousin. “Just wait until you have to get one of the goats off the roof.”

  Both men laughed and waved as they pulled out onto the road.

  Now alone, with the coffee can clutched to her chest and her pulse finally slowing to a normal rate as she stared at the disappearing truck, she realized while she might be home, it was definitely not the home she remembered.

  Whether the differences were good or not was still up in the air.

  Although, compared to New York, I’ll damn sure take it. In a heartbeat, without complaint.

  She trudged back up the driveway toward the house.

  * * * *

  Sam fought the urge to glance back at her as Pete drove away. He didn’t remember Sarah looking that gorgeous in high school, and he’d thought she was pretty cute back then. Today she’d had her dark blonde hair pulled back at the base of her neck in a ponytail. And she didn’t look like a skeletal gym rat, either. Her sweet rounded curves looked perfect on her frame. He guessed her to be around five-eight, and bet her body would fit perfectly pressed up against his if they—

  “She seems nice,” Pete said, interrupting his quickly developing fantasy.

  Sam nodded and settled back in his seat. “Yeah.” Not only did he think she was nice, but she was a hell of a lot cuter than he remembered from school.

  He tugged at his jeans to adjust them because of the chubby he now sported.

  Back in high school, she’d acted shy and withdrawn. Now he wished he’d made more of an effort to be friends with her.

  Then again, he was no longer an awkward kid, either. They’d both done a lot of growing and maturing in the sixteen years since graduation. And he hadn’t set eyes on her since then.

  “I feel bad for her,” Pete said. “Everything she just went through. And her son.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah.” He settled back in his seat.

  He was just trying to figure out how to best broach the subject when Pete spoke up again. “I was thinking, we should invite all of them over for a barbecue, once she’s settled in and everything. Maybe this weekend. What do you think?”

  Sam smiled. “I think you and I think a lot alike, cousin.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sarah spent the next day getting completely unpacked and getting the studio cleaned and set up.

  Her dad had gone online before she even arrived in Florida and made her an appointment for late Thursday morning at the driver’s license office in Tarpon Springs. Armed with a notarized affidavit from him stating she was living with him, a certified copy of her birth certificate, her passport, her New York driver’s license, and a print-out of the auto insurance policy’s declaration page stating her new address and insured status, she got ready to go.

  “Jase, come on, honey. Hurry up. We need to leave.”

  “Why can’t I stay here?”

  “Because Grandpa’s gone shopping with Betty. I can’t leave you alone.”

  He pouted. Under normal circumstances, she’d be sorely tempted to give in to him and cancel the appointment, but she knew this was something that had to be done as soon as possible, and getting another appointment would be a pain in the ass.

  “Go get your shoes on, please.”

  He still moped. “Okay.” Slowly, as if condemned, he plodded his way down the hall to his room.

  If she wasn’t worried about making it on time, she’d laugh her ass off at his act.

  Finally, she got him out the door into the carport and locked up behind them. “Let’s get moving.”

  As she walked over to the Toyota, she realized Jason wasn’t behind her.

  She turned to find him standing at the door to the house and staring at the car with an odd look on his face.

  “Jase, come on, honey. Get in.”

  He pursed his lips before shaking his head.

  This was not normal. She could count on one finger the times he’d thrown a temper tantrum, and on one hand with fingers to spare the times he’d balked at a command. “Jason, I’m not kidding. You have to come with me.”

  He shook his head again.

  Losing her patience, she returned to him and grabbed his good hand. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go.”

  He pulled back. “Please, no, Mommy. Don’t make me ride in that.”

  She almost let go of his hand, but didn’t, realizing he might fall as hard as he was pulling against her. She eased up and stepped close again. “What?”

  “Can we take Grandpa’s truck? Please?”

  She looked at the beat-up Ford. It had nearly three hundred thousand miles on it, but it ran well. Cosmetically, however, it was a dump.

  Not to mention he’d never gotten the air conditioning fixed when it went out over thirteen years earlier.

  It was also a stick shift, and she hadn’t driven one of those in over fifteen years.

  She knelt down in front of him. “Honey, it’s a really hot day. The air works in the car. That was Grandma’s car. It’s fine. Grandpa had it checked out and said it’s in great shape.”

  He rapidly shook his head again. She carefully studied his eyes, seeing the signs of impending panic in them
. “It’s a safe car,” she gently said.

  “Please, Mommy, can we take the truck?”

  She definitely didn’t want to have to poke an anti-anxiety pill down him. “If we take Grandpa’s truck, you’ll go with me?”

  He eagerly nodded his head. “Please? It’s big.”

  She realized that, except for taking cabs to the pediatrician’s office and other errands in New York, when Jason had still been under the influence of pain medication, he hadn’t actually ridden in a car since the accident. Just the moving truck or her dad’s truck.

  “Okay. Let me go back in and get the keys.”

  “Thank you, Mommy.” He ran over to the passenger door, yanked it open with a rusted, creaking groan, and hoisted himself up and in without her help before she could even take a step in his direction.

  Dammit. She unlocked the door and found her dad’s keys hanging on the hook just inside the door. Swapping her car keys for them, she locked up again and made her way to the driver’s side.

  Once she was settled behind the wheel and had adjusted the seat, she looked at Jason. “I’m going to warn you, honey. This might be scarier than riding in the car. I haven’t driven a stick shift in years.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t care.”

  Sarah’s heart wanted to break for her son. “We’re going to have to work on you riding in a car. You realize that, right?”

  He solemnly nodded. “I know, Mommy. I’m sorry.”

  That finished breaking her heart. “It’s okay, sweetie.” She reached out and ruffled his hair. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

  She started the truck and managed to back it out of the carport without stalling the engine. Her dad had taught her how to drive in this truck, but the clutch felt a lot stiffer than she remembered from back then.

  Jamming the clutch pedal to the floor, she manhandled the gear shifter into first and, with a bucking roll, slowly headed down the driveway.

  Fortunately, she was able to get a feel for the clutch before she hit the busy road leading west to Tarpon Springs.

  I just hope I don’t give poor Jason whiplash.

  Somehow, despite traffic and construction and taking her time with the recalcitrant truck, she managed to pull into the shopping center housing the tax collector’s office a few minutes before her appointment time. Inside, the place was crowded, but when she checked in with the receptionist she was handed a piece of paper with a special number on it.

  “How long do you think it’ll be?” Sarah asked.

  “Oh, not long. There’s only three numbers ahead of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  She managed to find an empty chair at the end of a row and sat Jason in her lap. Three elderly women, apparently there together and each one working on a knitting project, eyed her before going back to their hushed conversation.

  Sure enough, less than five minutes after she sat down her number was called.

  The three old biddies all swiveled their heads to look up and watch her lead Jason by the hand to an available clerk. Behind them, Sarah distinctly heard one say, “She just got here. Why did they take her first?”

  Ignoring her simmering anger, Sarah handed over all her paperwork, took the quick eye exam, got her picture taken, and moments later had her new Florida driver’s license in hand. Her voter’s registration card would arrive in the mail in a couple of weeks.

  As she led Jason back through the lobby and past the three old biddies, they each shot her glares.

  “Wait here, honey,” Sarah said, leaving Jason standing there.

  She walked over, leaned in, and, sotto voce, said, “You know, they have this invention called the Internet. Fabulous damn thing. If you actually use it, you can make this thing called an appointment and not have to wait hours in line. And then people who have made appointments won’t get taken in front of you, because you’ll have one of your very own and you won’t end up looking like obnoxious old biddies for complaining about it.”

  She gave them a cheerful smile and a wave, leaving them with shocked, reddened faces as she retrieved Jason and headed out the door.

  “Mommy, what did those old ladies say?” he asked as she marched him across the parking lot to her dad’s truck.

  She let out a snort. “They were talking smack out of turn, baby,” she said. “Remember, never get snarky with someone when you don’t know all the facts.”

  He nodded as she helped boost him up into the seat. “Did you give them a smackdown?”

  She laughed. “Yes. A verbal one. You want a milkshake?”

  “Yep!”

  “Then let’s go get one.” She closed the passenger door once he was safely buckled in.

  * * * *

  When they returned home, she spotted her dad walking over from Betty’s place with a Verizon shopping bag in his hand.

  “Go on inside, honey,” she told Jason. “I’ll be right there.”

  She waited for her dad under the carport.

  “Any problems?” he asked.

  “Nope. I am once again officially a Floridian.”

  He nodded. “But you had another problem, I take it?” He tipped his head toward the truck.

  She let out a resigned sigh. “Yeah. He didn’t want to ride in the car. He begged me to take the truck.”

  He leaned against the truck bed. “Understandable.”

  “Even he admitted he knew he has to get over it. I’m thinking maybe if we try driving him up and down the road in the car, maybe it’ll help.”

  “Want me to talk to him?”

  “If you think it’ll help, sure. Of course.”

  “He’s going to be taking the bus to school. You think he’ll be okay riding that?”

  “Hopefully. It’s big. Although I was thinking about just driving him to school.”

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t. He needs normalcy. Chance to make new friends. He didn’t have to ride a bus to school up in New York, did he?”

  “No.”

  “Dana’s kids will be on the same bus.”

  “Let me guess, you already checked that out?”

  He smiled. “Of course I did.” He handed her the Verizon bag. “Oh, and this is for you. I wanted Betty to go with me. She’s really smart with electronics.”

  Inside, a brand new iPhone, two models newer than the one she’d had. And all the extras, like a case, car charger, everything she might need.

  She hugged him. “Thanks, Daddy. I’ll pay you back.”

  “Like hell you will,” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders. “And don’t you dare give that number to Isabella, either. Got it?”

  She smiled. “You better believe I won’t.”

  “They said down at the store that they can transfer your contacts for you if you want them to.”

  “No, it’s okay. They’re on Google. I’ll just add my account to the phone and they’ll port over.”

  He stared at her. “I don’t know what you just said. And that’s why I took Betty with me to Verizon.”

  She hugged him again. “That’s okay, Dad. It’s great. You did good.”

  He nodded. “Glad you like it, sweetheart.”

  * * * *

  “I’m thinking I should talk to Sam and Pete about the job tonight,” she told her dad as they walked inside.

  He went over to the small corkboard hanging by the kitchen pantry and found a sticky note. “Here you go. Their numbers.”

  She took it, a little tingle running through her as she remembered her encounter with them a couple of days earlier. “Thanks.”

  Taking her new iPhone into her bedroom, she closed the door behind her and sat on her bed while trying to fight the butterflies in her stomach.

  Come on, stupid. This isn’t high school.

  No, in high school she never would have mustered the nerve, not even under the threat of a triple-dog dare, to call either of the hunks.

  She dialed the number for Sam first and waited, holding her breath.

  “H
ello?”

  She had to swallow. “Hi, Sam? This is Sarah d’Antonio. Heckman,” she corrected herself. “Walt’s daughter.” One of the things she wanted to do when she could afford it was to change both her and Jason’s last names to Heckman.

  She’d be damned if she’d remain tied to Michael in any way except through Jason’s genes.

  “Hi. How are you doing? Big Mac behaving himself?”

  She nervously laughed. “So far. Thank you, by the way. You and Pete both.” In the background she thought she heard something running, maybe a lawnmower. “I was wondering if I could come over tonight to talk to you about the job?”

  “Sure.” It sounded like he stepped inside, or at least away from the noise. When she heard the distinctive sound of a car dinger she realized what he’d done. “How about seven? We’ll be home by then.”

  “It’s not inconvenient, is it? Because if it needs to be a different time or day, I’m okay with that.”

  “Nope, tonight at seven works fine for us. Looking forward to it. I don’t know if your dad showed you or not, but you can just walk through the pasture. We put in a gate on our side. It’s not locked, but make sure it latches to keep Moodini safe in the pasture.”

  That drew a genuine laugh out of her. “Moodini?”

  “Well, he’s had his fair share of escapes. See you at seven.”

  “Right. Seven. Thanks.”

  After hanging up she stared at the phone, a stupid grin on her face. So what if she was just working for them? She could enjoy plenty of fantasies fueled by them once she felt up to a little self-pleasuring again.

  Hell, she’d done it plenty of times while in high school.

  It really does feel like old times again.

  She pulled herself back to reality. Importing her contacts wasn’t the only thing she needed to do.

  I’ve put this off long enough. Sarah dug Michael’s iPhone and charger out of one of the boxes in her closet and plugged it in, leaving it on her dresser. By the time she finished importing all her contacts and updating her iTunes account and downloaded all her apps, Michael’s phone had enough of a charge on it she could turn it on and play the voice mails.