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TRAVIS WAS EXHAUSTED as he pulled into the driveway. He was grateful for special orders, but as the business continued to expand, he thought it might be time to take on an apprentice. If not, he would be in the position of having to turn down special orders or stretching beyond the reasonable lead time for pieces. This particular project was an entire formal dining room set, being done to match perfectly the interior of an antique dining room. The couple had come into a lot of money recently and decided to refurbish a second home on the lake south of town. Travis was grateful for the gigantic monetary boon it would provide. He was not so happy about the long hours he was putting in to accomplish the final goal.
The original deadline he had provided after Christmas of the end of February had seemed feasible based on all his calculations. Now, with barely a week left, he knew that an increase in business traffic, hiring new staff and general schedule conflicts had made that a lofty goal. He was determined not to disappoint, but it would mean working late every night for a while. As he put the truck in park and turned off the lights, he made a note on the electronic task list he pulled up on his phone to look into an apprentice, if that is what they were called nowadays.
He felt his stomach rumble. Emily would have dinner waiting, he knew. She always did. They had settled into a routine over the last month and a half. Right after the Christmas break, she had started her new job at the hospital and appeared to be thriving there. Sarah and Sam seemed settled well in their new school and loved their teacher. Either he or Emily picked them up each day at 3:30 p.m. When it was his day, he would stay with them until she got home from work and then go back to the shop for a couple hours. On days like today, when she hadn’t worked and would have been home long before him, he had taken no break, but a guarantee of a warm dinner was a great trade for his labors. He tried to remember what he had thought to be acceptable about fast food dinners in his previous life, before Emily had come along, and came up short. He hadn’t had a grease drive through dinner since her arrival—and was grateful.
Opening the front door, he took in the smells. Smells like pot roast, he informed the stomach now churning impatiently.
Placing his boots next to the two smaller pairs in the entry way, he went in search of Emily, knowing it was way too late for the twins.
“Hey,” he said, coming upon her in the little office area they had set up.
“Hi,” she said stretching her shoulders. “You worked pretty late. How is the dining room set coming?”
“I have it all together. Just needs staining and final touches. With a couple more late nights, I’ll make the deadline. What are you working on?”
“I was just doing my checkbook and checking some documents from my attorney,” she closed the book she had been writing in. “Give me a second and I’ll have your plate ready,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said, moving to the kitchen doorway.
They had a great relationship and balance worked out in the house. Anyone would think they had known each other for ever. She even did extra things like painting rooms still in remodel mode. In exchange, he provided her and the twins housing and a life away from her greatest fear. It should be enough, he thought, but in moments when he was tired and his defenses not sharp, his mind wandered back to a certain kiss they never discussed. His libido hadn’t come roaring back to life by chance—it had one specific target in mind. Unfortunately for him, Emily appeared to like the status quo in the house and gave no indication of wanting to explore a different depth to their relationship.
There were progress markers, he thought. She touched him more often, a casual back rub when he came in sore, the swat he needed when he got sassy and once in sympathy after a hard call to a vendor. He wanted to push it forward, but worried that she would retreat. So he tried to remain content with the way things were and prayed someday she might open the door to other possibilities.
He could no longer imagine her not being in his life, but he had time to be patient and wait for her to come around. It didn’t surprise him any longer that he had found room in his heart to start caring for someone again. The anger and solitude he felt after losing Anna and Ellen had faded, and he found it easier to talk about them. He would imagine how she would have done things that Emily did and smile. They were so opposite, yet still seemed to have the same calming effect on his soul
“Pot roast, potatoes, green beans and corn bread,” she said, extending a plate his direction.
“I hope there is more,” he said, taking the plate.
“Yeah, leftovers for tomorrow’s lunches,” she grinned up at him.
“Or seconds for me tonight?” he waggled eyes at her, hoping to budge her resistance.
“We’ll see,” she said.
“Yes we shall,” he said digging in. The old saying about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach was her secret weapon, he decided. She was fast worming her way into the good graces of both his heart and stomach.
***
EMILY HAD GONE TO BED distressed, and the tossing and turning were just side effects of a much larger problem. As she padded downstairs to get a drink of water, she saw that it had just passed the 2 a.m. mark on the large clock over the mantle in the living room. She hated when these nights happened, being so close to the twin’s bedroom that she feared one of her night terrors might wake them. The insistent fears of her mind kept her up less and less often, but after bad news on the Tony front they would surface again.
As she passed the couch in the living room, she decided that based on her level of anxiety she was going to bunk down there until her normal 5 a.m. waking. After a quick drink, her mind still racing circles around her tired brain, she sank into the sofa. She needed to be sharp for work in the morning, though. They were going to be trying her out on the maternity ward, and she needed to be at her best.
The letter from her lawyer and the subsequent call were stirring up old memories. Their second court date was two weeks away, and she would call Jenna and see what she recommended. She didn’t want to worry Travis about it until she had a plan. Coming to depend on him as much as she already did had never been her goal, and getting even more involved wasn’t smart. The lawyer thought that a real possibility of Tony getting some additional visitation allowances existed, which meant she would need to go back to Middleton. His hope was that they could stall that until the end of year. Uprooting herself and the twins again before June when school got out seemed unreasonable, but apparently even a protective order didn’t allow for her moving away to ensure the safety of herself or her children. Sometimes it felt like she was never going to be free from the youthful indiscretions of years past.
She punched the pillow, trying her other side. As she tried to settle in and get at least a small nip of sleep, she felt the anger for her children welling up. They deserved to be safe and with someone who could guide, love and direct them. Instead they were being forced to see a man who terrified them. She wondered what horrible thing would have to happen before a Judge would see through Tony’s act and end the craziness. Exhausted, she dozed off, just to be thrust back into the same nightmare.
She was working in the hospital, and when she pulled the blanket back on a patient bed, Tony sat bolt upright. She couldn’t move away, and he put his hands around her throat, that sneering face she would recognize anywhere.
“I’m taking those kids and you won’t ever see them again,” he snarled in her dream, tightening the grip. She couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t get away. She beat at his chest, getting weaker, trying to break free, to get to the twins—
And then Travis was there, shaking her awake. The soft assurances that Tony was gone and the twins were safe. She took big gulping gasps of breath and clung to him, breathing in his warm sweet smell, mumbling her thanks. He had saved them. He would not allow anything bad to happen to them. She didn’t want to pull away. She just wanted to stay where she was for one more minute. This was by far her favorite part of the dream.
***
TRAVIS TRIED TO MOVE, but felt a pillow at his back and weight in front of him. It took him a minute to clear the cobwebs and remember the events of the morning. Looking down at the blonde hair strewn out over his shoulder, he felt the reaction to her in every region of his body. Gently he brushed the locks away from her face and saw up close the perfection of that face she had kept downturned often in the early days. She was so tiny, so beautiful she stole his breath away. He hated to move, but realized from the alarm sounding from his room that it was time.
Doing the best he could to slide his arm out from beneath her head, he jostled a bit more than intended and soon was staring down into her alert, sleep-laden eyes.
“It ... I had a dream ... but ...” she whispered.
“I’m flattered you dream about me,” he teased, loving the fact that she remained for a moment curled up next to him. She did a slow perusal of his face that made him feel as if the exploration had been with her hand. In a moment it became necessary for him to separate from her or risk scaring her with the immediacy of his reaction to her proximity to his body. Scooting into a sitting position, he turned.
“Seemed like you were having a tough night?”
She was sitting a cushion away now, and he knew the minute he lost her, from the downturn of her head. She just nodded in response.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. I’ll make the coffee,” she rose and shuffled quietly past him.
Not able to walk away from her sad face and worried about the night before, he reached out and loosely grabbed her wrist.
“Emily, you need to tell me what’s wrong. Something caused that nightmare and you are still obviously upset this morning.”
Without a word, she wiggled her arm free and continued out of the room. He inhaled and prepared to exit when she reentered, her eyes glistening as she extended a piece of paper. He took it, looking at her in an attempt to make eye contact, which she avoided before turning and walking out again.
He felt the tension and worry spider webbing out through his entire body as he turned his attention to the document he held. Carefully unfolding it, he cursed—it was a legal document regarding the custody of the children. Reading it carefully, he had to reread it as the accusations jumped from the page. He was shocked that any judge who had met Tony could even give this kind of prattle issuance to be heard in open court. She had held to every letter of the court’s request just a few weeks ago, and now here they were already dragging her back into court. The last page was a letter from Emily’s attorney and some handwritten notes in the margin in her handwriting. On the bottom, the words MOVE BACK?? caught his attention and wouldn’t let go. He didn’t stand still one moment longer, but hustled to the kitchen.
“So ...?” she said, grabbing two coffee cups and staying busy, as he had found she was likely to do in stressful or uncomfortable scenarios.
“This,” he held up the paper, “is bull ... pucky! I ... your notes,” he indicated the page now sitting on top. “Did you talk to your attorney?”
“Yeah,” she shook her head. “I can’t afford a real attorney, and he does the best he can, but he has a lot of cases like mine. It’s just ... even with the abuse and Tony’s record, he still has visitation, as do his parents, per our custody document. We can push for keeping them supervised, and he feels a judge will grant that, but I would need to go back to Middleton. I can’t drive back and forth, every single week. Every other is going to be hard enough long-term.”
“There has to be something else you can do?”
“I can plead my case in front of the judge in two weeks,” she said flatly. “But ... it never goes my way. I can’t believe that Sarah and Sam have to be dragged through this. Wanda and Earl ignore them and drink when they have them. I just ... I was so happy when the judge made all visitations supervised, and I thought I would get a reprieve for a while. Instead they decide to appeal the ruling and go for more blood.”
“It’s a power struggle—that’s all it is. Kids have been pawns for way to many years. This isn’t unique.”
“What did the attorney say?”
“He said they are complaining that since I live so far away, they are asking for more like fifty-fifty and unsupervised weekends. If the judge decides to compromise, my attorney says it will probably be one night a week. That is not possible from here.”
“The judge has to see reason. At the very least delay it until the end of the school year, which for the twins is just a couple months.”
She seemed to be deep in thought, so he let her go about her routine. She finished pouring the freshly brewed concoction in their cups and handed him his.
“You’re a really good guy,” she said almost inaudibly as she walked past.
“You know, you aren’t so bad yourself,” he turned and watched her backside retreating in the direction of the stairs.
A wobbling head was his only response. Turning toward the paperwork again, he grimaced and slapped it down on the counter. Mentally he added a call to Jenna and his buddy that had gone into family law, to see if there were any other options, to his to-do list for the day. He wasn’t going to give up without a fight, he vowed with a vengeance.
