Читать книгу Hometown Reunion - Lisa Carter - Страница 14
ОглавлениеJaxon tucked Brody’s folded shirts and jeans into the bureau drawer. The socks and Spider-Man underwear went into another drawer. Hand on his hips, Jax glanced around the bedroom.
He’d purchased the rambling, three-bedroom farmhouse from his aunt as part of their business deal. At present, the house was furnished with only the bare essentials. As spartan and unsentimental as his aunt, it would be up to Jax to figure out how to turn the house into a home for Brody.
What Jax knew about kids—despite being the oldest of four brothers and one sister—wouldn’t fill Brody’s pint-size suitcase.
Stowing the suitcase in the hall closet, he headed down the creaking staircase to check on his son. And found him where he’d left him ten minutes ago. Knees planted in the sofa cushion, Brody kept his eyes fastened on the winding driveway. As if he was waiting for someone. Watching for someone—like his mother?—who’d never return.
Guilt twisted Jax’s gut. “What’re you doing, son?”
Brody didn’t turn around. “Hungwy.”
Him, too. “Let’s get chicken nuggets at McDonald’s.”
Brody shook his head, but his fixation on the driveway didn’t waver. “No ’Donalds.”
Jax was also tired of fast food. It had been a long day, starting with the drive over the Bay Bridge Tunnel. With the waves lapping the shoreline in Virginia Beach, they’d crossed the steel-girded artery which connected what been here, born heres called the Western Shore of mainland Virginia to their Eastern Shore home.
Brody probably should’ve had a nap. But perched high in his car seat, he’d studied the shorebirds wheeling overhead, the silent child as emotionally remote as Jax himself.
Apples and trees. Fathers and sons. He scrubbed his hand over his face. Bringing up the tree thing with Darcy had been a mistake. A tactical error in winning her support.
He needed her help or this attempt at a new life was doomed. But he’d gone too fast, pushing his business ideas on her. Neither of them were the same carefree kids they’d been. And now he’d blown any hope of friendship, much less a business collaboration.
And there remained his biggest dilemma—how to reach his son. As he knelt there staring through the window, Brody’s skinny shoulder blades stood out through his Power Rangers T-shirt.
“What ’bout cereal, Brode?”
Home less than a day, Jax had already slipped into his native speech. Bogue, fogue and dogue were sure to follow for bog, fog and dog.
“No...” An unaccustomed whine had crept into Brody’s too stoic voice.
Better forget Brody’s usual tub time. Jax wasn’t sure he had the fortitude to gator wrestle a two-year-old, slippery as an eel, into a bath. He’d feed Brody and put him to bed.
As for the upcoming kayaking excursion? He rolled his neck and shoulders, trying to work out the kinks. He also needed to study the water charts for the Tuesday morning expedition.
“How ’bout pizza, son?”
An SUV rounded the curve in the driveway. Darcy’s SUV. Jax’s heartbeat accelerated. Brody launched himself off the couch and grabbed the doorknob.
Jax scrambled after him. “Wait, Brody.” But somehow the child managed to pry open the door. Who knew a two-year-old could be so fast?
As Jax stepped onto the wraparound porch, his son hurled himself at Darcy. His arms clasped around her legs, Brody buried his face in her jeans. “Me know you come, Dawcy. Me know.”
Darcy’s eyes went wide. Jax stood frozen. A wicker basket lay in the gravel beside her. A plastic shopping bag dangled from her hand.
Brody had been waiting and watching for Darcy? After what happened earlier, Jax had feared they’d seen the last of her. Yet here she was. And with a childlike faith, Brody had believed she’d come.
Jax moved to ground level. “Let me take something.” He grabbed hold of the basket.
“Thanks.”
His arms sagged at the basket’s weight. “Wow, how did you get this thing out of the car?”
“When will you learn, Pruitt, it’s all about girl power?”
She’d been telling him that since she was only slightly older than Brody. His mouth curved. “How could I forget?”
With her free hand, she cupped Brody’s head. But her gaze never left Jax. “See that you don’t, Pruitt.”
She drew back, though, when he reached for the plastic bag. “It’s a surprise for later.”
Letting go of her legs, Brody turned his face up to her. “’Pwize?”
She pointed to the hamper. “Only if you eat a good dinner.”
Brody’s stomach rumbled, and he laughed.
Jax almost dropped the basket. “That’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh since...” Chest heaving, he gulped past the boulder lodged in his throat.
Darcy’s lips quivered. “I’m glad.”
He was glad she was here. But he couldn’t say that to her. That had never been the way they were with each other. Instead, he took a lungful of the scents wafting from the basket. “Something smells great.”
She shrugged. “Mom was convinced you two would die of starvation without a home-cooked meal tonight.”
He’d always loved her mother, Agnes, a quiet, sweet spirit more comfortable behind the scenes than center stage. With his own mother off-Shore right now, somehow she’d known what he and Brody needed most was a taste of home.
“Lasagna. Half spinach for Brody, meat for a carnivore like you.” Darcy squared her shoulders. “Also included, lunch fixings for tomorrow. And a pie tonight if both of you are very good boys.”
“Me wuv pie.” Propped against her thigh, Brody sighed, a sound of utter contentment.
Not unlike what Jax was feeling. Suddenly, the world seemed a better place. Despite the fading sunlight, a happier, brighter place.
She bit her lip. “Would Brody let me pick him up, Jax?”
“Not me, but you he might.”
Flushing, he dropped his eyes at the painful admission. She must think him a terrible father. His own son didn’t want Jax to hold him.
She opened her arms, and Brody didn’t hesitate. He leaped into her embrace. Jax pushed aside a sting of envy.
He heaved the basket up the steps. “I’ll call your mom later and thank her.”
At the door, he paused, keeping his back to Darcy. “Seems like a ton of food for just the little guy and me. Would you stay and help us?”
He was asking for more than dinner. They both knew it. And if she refused? He wasn’t sure how he’d cope with another rejection from her today.
The silence stretched. He closed his eyes, but didn’t turn around. His heart pounded in his ears.
“I’ll stay.”
Opening his eyes, he released a breath.
She lugged his son, propped on her hip, onto the porch. “After dinner, I’ll go over the map route with you.”
He held the door for her. “I’d appreciate it.”
In the kitchen, he set out the food on the butcher-block countertop. He hadn’t had time to explore the kitchen, but he needn’t have worried. She immediately pulled out plates and removed glasses from the cabinet next to the sink.
“You’ve spent a lot of time here with Shirley.”
Darcy opened a utensil drawer. “She mentored me.”
And therefore, Darcy was far much more deserving of this opportunity than him. No wonder she resented him. No wonder she didn’t want to work with him.
Darcy showed Brody how to fold the paper napkins, and his little man toddled around the farmhouse table, setting out three places.
She knew the kayaking business, and Jax didn’t. It should be her name on the company title, not his. If it weren’t for Brody, he’d...
Jax dug into the casserole. For Brody’s sake, what choice did he have? The papers were signed. The deal was done.
And he was so profoundly grateful for this chance to come home. To have a job. A purpose and a way to provide a life for his son.
Jax spooned out the lasagna onto the plates. Darcy rigged a stack of phone books onto one of the chairs as a booster seat.
He poured milk for Brody into a small juice cup. “I’m surprised anyone uses telephone books anymore.”
She lifted Brody to the top of the stack. “Shirley is old-school.”
Jax cut the spinach lasagna into bite-size pieces for Brody. “So it was you behind the website.”
She held up a salad fork. “Can Brody use this?”
Jax grinned over his son’s dark head. “Let’s just say he gives it a good try.”
She smiled at him. A lot of firsts tonight. His pulse ratcheted.
Darcy tucked a napkin in the neck of Brody’s shirt. “He’ll get the hang of it. Like you with this single parenting thing.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me.”
She arched her eyebrow. “Confidence has never been a problem for Jaxon Pruitt.”
Gripping the fork, Brody speared a noodle.
“Uh, wait a minute, Brody.” She placed a restraining hand on his arm. “We need to tell God thanks for the food.”
Something else Jax had failed to do as a parent. His stomach tightened. But she flicked a quick smile at him.
“Put down the fork, Brody, and put your hands together like this. Close your eyes.”
His little hands folded underneath his chin. “Like Gwandma.”
Jax nodded. “Like Grandma.”
When his parents came to help with Brody’s care in the months following Adrienne’s death, his mother had taught Brody to pray. A good practice Jax had allowed to lapse. A good habit he needed to reinstate.
Brody squeezed his eyes shut. “’Kay, Dawcy.”
A smile hovering on her lips, she closed her eyes, too. “Dear Father, thank You for this day and for the food.”
Not closing his eyes, Jax studied Darcy’s face, as usual bare of anything beyond sunscreen. Her sweeping lashes lay soft against her cheeks.
“Thank You for the hands that prepared this wonderful food. Thank You for Brody.”
His son’s mouth tipped up at the corners.
She lifted her face toward the ceiling, like a sunflower seeking light. “Thank You for Brody’s daddy.”
Jax stilled.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “And thank You for bringing Brody and his dad home to Kiptohanock.”
“Amen,” Jax whispered.
She cleared her throat. “Amen, Brody. Now you can eat.”
Brody’s eyes flew open. “Ay-ay-men...”
They laughed.
Keeping an eye on Brody’s attempt to lance the lasagna and access his mouth, Jax sat across from Darcy. “The confident Jaxon Pruitt you remember didn’t quite make it back from an Afghan province.”
She handed him a plate of lasagna. “What about the commendations under fire? Jax the Invincible.”
“Not so invincible.” He paused, fork midway to his mouth. “You kept track of me?”
She stabbed the lasagna on her plate. “Not so hard with the Kiptohanock grapevine at work. You know how it is in a small town.”
“Home sweet home,” he grunted. “Where you may not know what you’re doing, but you can rest assured everyone else does.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” She rolled her eyes. “But in your case, you’ve always succeeded at everything you attempted.”
“In hindsight, too easily. Without having to try too hard.” He bent over the plate. “And when it really matters, like now...”
She laid down her fork. “You are a naturally gifted athlete. Easy on the eyes. And despite the laid-back demeanor, intelligent. You’ll be an old hand at running the kayaking business before you know it.”
His head came up. “You think I’m good-looking?”
Darcy’s mouth opened and closed like a fish on a hook. “That’s what you got out of everything I said? Good-looking cannot be a news flash to you.”
He cocked his head. “The news flash is that you think so, too.”
“All the Pruitt men are good-looking.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Though your baby brother, Charlie, is widely considered the most handsome of the bunch. Not you.”
He placed his hand over his chest. “Zing—straight through the heart.” He laughed. “I missed you, Darcy.”
She could always be counted on to give him a healthy dose of humility. Whether he wanted her to or not.
“Did you? I couldn’t tell.”
Brody reached for his cup, and she jumped up—as did Jax—a second too late to prevent a milk mishap.
Jax righted the overturned cup. “I’m sorry about what happened this afternoon. You’re right. I need to learn the business before I make changes.”
She used her napkin to mop up the spill. “I should’ve given your ideas a chance. Maybe next week—things are slow until summer cranks up—we could revisit your idea. It’s your business. You’re the boss.”
“Next week? Does that mean you’d be willing to teach me what you know?”
“Providing we can come to acceptable terms.”
Darcy took life on her terms. One of the things he’d most liked about her when they were children. Because truth be told, he was the same way. Frenemies or not, they’d always understood each other.
At least until that last summer before he shipped out to Basic. Things had gotten confusing between them.
He pushed back his shoulders. “Okay, hit me.”
“Don’t tempt me.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “When will you learn not to say things you don’t mean?”
He laughed. In the old days, she’d always managed to make him laugh. Most of all, at himself. “I meant hit me with your terms.”
She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I’ll teach you what I know about the business, but after Labor Day I’m leaving the Shore to run Shirley’s operation in the Keys. You’ll have three months to get up to speed, but after that you’re on your own.”
Just when he returned, she was leaving? The sunshine girl headed to the Sunshine State. But she’d offered him an olive branch. A truce in their long-running battle of hostility.
“You were gone a long time.” She settled into her chair. “Why didn’t you ever come back?”
“I was nineteen the first time I deployed, Darcy.” He took a deep breath. “Somewhere along the way, I got lost.”
“Lost how?”
His shoulders rose and fell. “Let’s just say I’ve been as far from Kiptohanock as you can find yourself and still be on the same planet.” He looked away. “These last few days since leaving Salt Lake City, I’ve asked myself if it was possible to fit into small town life again. But for Brody’s sake...”
She placed her palms flat on either side of her plate. “It’s because of Brody that I know you’re going to make this work, Jax.”
He frowned. “You’ve got more faith in me than I do in myself right now.”
“You are the king of don’t quit, Jaxon Pruitt.” She smirked. “Obnoxiously so. You’ll rise to the occasion. You always do.”
“Somewhere in there I think there was a compliment.” He ran his fingers through the short ends of his hair. “A very hidden compliment.”
Darcy tilted her head. “And here’s something else I’ve learned about small towns like Kiptohanock.”
He took a swig of sweet tea, as much as anything to give his hands something to do. “What’s that?”
“Sometimes small towns are so out in the middle of nowhere that you have to get lost to find them.”
He gnawed at his lower lip. “You’re saying even lost, I’m right where I should be?”
“Small town life lesson.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I won’t charge you for that one. But I’ll expect to receive my paycheck as usual at the end of the month.”
“Duly noted.” He rested against the chair. “I never realized until I left how much I’d miss this place.”
“For born heres—” she placed her hand over her heart “—it becomes a part of us.”
“I took being within sight and sound of the water for granted. It’s who we are in the deep places. Over there I lost the best part of myself.” He fiddled with his silverware. “But if you don’t mind me asking—”
“Like that’s ever stopped you before.”
“Why are you leaving, Darcy?”
“The longer I’ve stayed—maybe I’ve overstayed—the more lost I feel.” She averted her eyes. “Perhaps it’s time for me to see if there’s more out there.”
“Does more have to be out there? Not here?”
Her gaze returned to his. “I thought you’d understand, Jax. We’re both all-or-nothing people.”
“You want to know the real reason I didn’t return until now?” His heart drummed in his chest. “I didn’t think there could ever be a place here for me again.”
“But you’re home now, Jax.”
“Am I?” He studied her. “Will you forgive me, Darcy?”
His question was about so much more than what had happened this afternoon.
She looked at him. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Can we get back to being friends?” He thrust out his chin. “We were friends, Darcy. Once.”
“Trust might be trickier than merely coming home.”
Jax tightened his jaw. “A chance is all I’m asking.”
His son pushed off from the table. “Pie?”
Bolting to his feet, Jax grabbed for the sliding phone books.
She caught his son underneath his arms. “Whoa, there, Brody Pruitt. What’s the rush?”
His mouth and chin were covered in red sauce. “Me Bwody Pwoo-it, Dawcy.” He raised his sauce-encrusted hands.
She kissed a clean spot on the top of his head. “Yes, you are. And what you are is a big mess.”
Brody threw back his head and belly-laughed.
“You know, Jaxon Pruitt, you have an irresistible son.”
He polished his knuckles on his shirt. “Like father, like son.”
“You wish.”
Smiling, he cut Brody a sliver of pie while Darcy made a valiant attempt to restore a semblance of cleanliness to his son.
After dessert, she took out a small plastic bottle from the shopping bag. “Bubbles, Brody. Let’s go out back.”
She guided him down the deck stairs to the tree-studded, sloping lawn. The meandering tidal creek glistened like multicolored jewels in the rainbow hue of the fiery sunset.
Darcy handed Jax a large bubble wand. “This one’s for you.”
Brody quivered with excitement. She dabbed the tiny stick in the solution. And pursing her lips, she blew across the wand.
A single bubble hung suspended before a soft breeze off the salt marsh lifted it into the air. They watched as the bubble rose higher and higher until it disappeared over the trees.
“Oh, Dawcy...” For the first time since Adrienne’s death, Brody smiled.
Darcy’s eyes welled and cut to Jax. His eyelids burned. She understood what this moment meant.
“Thank you, Darce.”
As soon as he said the old nickname, he remembered how she hated it. Yet old habits died hard. Like old loves?
But this time, a smile flitted across her lips. “You’re welcome, Jax.”
His son bounced, a human pogo stick. “Mow, Dawcy. Mow.”
“Sure thing.” She blew another bubble.
Brody’s arms reached above his head.
She motioned. “Go get it, Brody.”
He raced after the bubble. Buoyant on the wind, it eluded his grasp. She blew bubble after bubble as Brody gave chase. His son laughed and laughed. As if making up for lost time.
Happiness. Peace. Contentment. Always just out of Jax’s grasp, too. Eluding him all these years.
“Watch this, Brody,” she called.
Brody wheeled.
She nudged Jax. “Bend a little and close your eyes.”
He obliged, and she leaned closer. Close enough for him to feel her breath on his face as she blew gently across the small wand.
A bubble tickled his eyelids and danced like a frolicking ladybug across his skin. A caress. A whisper. A promise?
Brody clapped his hands. “Me, Dawcy. Me.”
“You can open your eyes, Jax.”
So he did. Her own eyes hooded, she touched her finger to the cleft in his chin. Just for a second before she moved to his son.
Brody chuckled when the bubbles brushed his shuttered eyelids. “Me do you, Dawcy.”
Keeping hold of the bottle, she let Brody dip the stick into the liquid.
“Cwoser, Dawcy. Cwoser.”
Jax rubbed his forehead. “He has trouble with l’s, too.”
Crouching to Brody’s height, she clamped her eyes shut. And flinched when what she got from him was more spit than bubble.
“Way to take one for the team, Darce.”
She shoulder-butted him. “Your turn, soldier.”
“At your peril, Darcy Parks.” He stepped back, yanking the large bubble wand from its sheath.
“Ooh...” Brody’s eyes rounded.
Brandishing it like a saber, Jax smiled, slashing the air between them. She smiled back at him.
And he knew she remembered childhood escapades involving pretend pirates in the tree house. Zorro and intergalactic warfare, too. They’d made it up as they went along. Like now?
He whirled, loosing a giant bubble blob. Brody cackled with sheer delight.
Darcy ran toward the creek. “Catch it, Brody!”
The toddler raced after her as fast as his small legs allowed. He stumbled, but she was there, sweeping him into her arms.
Jax’s heart caught in his throat.
For the first time, he thought he might’ve found a way to bridge the gap. The answer to a prayer he’d been too afraid to voice. Could it be that with Darcy’s help, he might’ve found the way home for both of them?
