Midmorning several days later, Iris sat on the floor with Levi, who was standing beside the coffee table. Her position put her close to the kitchen doorway.
She and Jilly had taken a divide-and-conquer approach with the boys over the past week when possible. Iris had cancelled her dance classes for the next couple of weeks. Jilly had had a chemo treatment early this morning; now bright mid-morning sunlight slanted through the picture windows overlooking the back forty.
Since the night of their near-kiss, Iris had avoided Callum; he stayed in Uncle Joe's study much of the time, taking a lot of phone calls.
She didn't know if she could survive another few weeks with this awful tension between them. Even Jilly had asked what was wrong. Iris had brushed aside her concern.
Callum sat on the couch across the living room, his leg propped beside him. Brandt sat in his lap as Callum read a book, his voice a low hum.
"Do you got a mommy?" Levi asked Iris.
The boy smooshed clay dough between his palms, and his head was bent over whatever creation he was making, but his voice betrayed the seriousness of his question.
"No, sweetie." She feathered her fingers through his hair, lingering for only a moment before he shook her affection away as only a three-year-old boy could.
"How come?"
Callum didn't look up from his reading. He didn't seem to have heard his son's question.
Jilly was closer, just over the threshold to the kitchen. She stood next to Tyler as he balanced on one of the kitchen chairs, which was pulled over to the sink as he washed his hands. And Iris could see exactly how tense her sister's shoulders had gotten at the question.
Iris grabbed the nearest hunk of blue clay and squeezed it in her fist. "God needed my mommy in heaven."
Levi's head came up. And Callum's did too. Awareness skittered up her arms in a wave of goosebumps even as she kept her eyes on the boy.
"Is that why God took my mommy up there, too?"
She set down her clay and squeezed the boy's shoulders in an impromptu hug. This time, he didn't pull away like he had moments ago. He laid his head on her shoulder, snuggling in as emotion rolled over Iris in a wave.
She still struggled with grief over her mother's death. Jilly's diagnosis and treatments had brought it to the forefront all over again. How much harder must it be for a boy as young as Levi to understand? She knew he must feel the emptiness of life without a mother, but he'd never known his.
"I don't know," she said. "Maybe."
The water in the kitchen shut off, and Tyler ran into the living room at full blast. Jilly followed more slowly, her face pale, bordering on green. Iris knew sometimes the treatments made her sick to her stomach, but Jilly had powered through the active morning to help with the boys.
"Why don't you go up and rest awhile?" Iris suggested. "I'll take care of lunch."
Jilly shrugged but wandered slowly toward the stairs.
Tyler was effusive and loud and ran quickly into Iris's arms to join Levi.
"I want to hug!" Brandt called out and jumped off his dad's lap. He bowled in to her, knocking her into the sofa. The simple embrace turned into a wrestling and tickling match. Finally, she got the boys interested in the clay again and sat up in time to catch Callum's frown. Before he could say anything, the doorbell rang. Jilly's voice called out from the front foyer that she'd get it. And she reappeared moments later with a familiar face in tow. An attorney, one of their father's friends. He marched inside without speaking to Iris and slapped a manila envelope into Callum's hand.
"Consider yourself served," he said and disappeared toward the front of the house. Jilly wore a half-horrified, half-apologetic expression.
"What is it, Daddy?" The boys gathered around him, vying to look at what had been delivered.
Callum's brow had turned into a thunderhead as he looked down at the envelope in his lap.
Served. The attorney's statement could only mean one thing. Some kind of lawsuit. For custody of the boys?
"Back up, y'all heathens." Callum pushed up off the couch with some difficulty, reaching for his crutches, which he'd tucked behind the corner of the couch. "I need to go to my room for some privacy."
Iris found herself nodding even as intense curiosity had her holding back questions. Like, What is that? What's wrong?
"I thought we could make some cookies to have after lunch. Chocolate chip?"
His face creased as he finally got both crutches under his armpits. He'd folded the large envelope in half and stuffed it in his back pocket. "With the boys? You want the boys in the kitchen?"
Why did he sound so disbelieving? "I thought it would keep us busy for at least... twenty minutes."
His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but he just shrugged his broad shoulders and maneuvered out of the room.
Callum sat on the edge of the twin bed in the office-cum-bedroom, his casted leg stretched out and resting on the floor at an angle. His forehead rested in one palm as he stared at minute cracks in the wood floor.
The letter dangled from his other hand. He couldn't erase the words from the forefront of his mind.
Suit for damages.
Plaintiff: Wade Tatum, Mayor of Redbud Trails.
He hadn't made enough of Tatum's threat.
His phone jangled, Buck's name showing on the display. He couldn't face his partner right now, not with his nerves raw and his temper hot.
Moments later, the phone beeped. A voicemail had come in.
"Problem just got worse," Buck's voice came through clearly on the speaker. "High falutin' attorney just served papers here, jawing and told me all about it. Negligence. If this goes public, it could hurt the company. We need to come up with a plan."
But Callum had gone past anger to numb. What was he supposed to do about this?
How naive had he been, thinking he could come back to Redbud Trails without having to face consequences for the choices he'd made back in high school?
The door burst open, startling him. He started to stand, forgetting about his leg. He stumbled.
The letter slipped from his hands and skidded across the floor, stopping just inside the door.
Levi ran in the room hurtling at Callum's knees. Already off-balance, he worked to catch himself on the edge of the desk.
"Levi!" Iris's voice flowed in the door as she came at a run. "Sorry." She reached for the sobbing boy, but he just clung harder to Cal's legs.
There were chocolate handprints on her jeans and the white blouse she wore. Callum grimaced. Scents of sugar wafted in on the air she'd disturbed by running in, and he wanted a taste.
Before he could stop her, she reached down and grabbed the letter. Her eyes flicked across the page and his stomach sank.
"Give me that." He snatched it out of her hands, ashamed of his sharp tone and her hurt and surprised look.
Levi sobbed louder.
"Why is my father suing you?" she asked.
"Stay out of it," he growled.
He didn't want her in the middle of this thing with him and her dad. There was too much she still didn't know, too many secrets from the past. He tossed the letter onto his bed, hoping that could be the end of it, and reached down to ruffle the boy's head.
"What's going on, buddy?"
"My tummy hurts."
He looked at Iris accusingly. "You didn't let them eat raw dough, did you?"
She popped her hands on her hips, a rebellious tilt to her chin. "Of course I didn't."
She glanced over her shoulder. "I don't want to leave the other two alone for too long."
He nodded and watched her leave before he settled back on the bed and drew the boy into his lap.
Sometimes the boys said their tummies hurt when what they really needed was a good cuddle. He didn't remember that happening when he'd been a child, but by the time he'd been the boys' age, he'd already adjusted to life in a broken home. Maybe it made him coddle them a little too much. Too much was better than not enough, though. He could attest to that.
He held Levi close. What would happen if he couldn't get this thing with Iris's dad settled? Would he lose the money he'd invested with Buck? Would he and the boys have to make a fresh start somewhere else? And how would they do that, penniless?
The hope that had budded in him when Buck had made the offer was starting to wither away. He needed this for the boys and for himself. Never mind the fact that he'd put his friend's business in jeopardy just by showing up in town.
"Daddy, my tummy," Levi moaned.
And then Levi lost his breakfast all over him.
Iris returned to the kitchen in time to find Brandt standing on a chair that he'd pushed to the faucet. She grabbed him, then reached out with her opposite hand and turned off the water just as it threatened to overflow the bowl she'd set inside the sink.
Her heart was pounding, but not from the near-disaster she'd just averted. Why was her father suing Callum? She'd barely glanced at the letter, knew it was his private business, but she hadn't been able to help herself.
And he'd clammed up, telling her to stay out of it.
After all she'd done for him and his sons, his words had stung.
Looking around the kitchen, she realized Tyler was nowhere in sight, and her heart started pounding for a different reason.
"Where's your brother?" she asked Brandt. The boy just shrugged.
There was a yell from Callum's room.
"Be there in a sec!" she yelled back.
Pulse thrumming in her ears, fears and worst-case scenarios ran through her mind, one after another.
Could Tyler have slipped outside? She glanced out the window in the back door, but the boy was nowhere in sight.
She rushed to the living room, but there was no giggling boy hiding behind the recliner or the TV stand.
Brandt remained in the kitchen, one thumb stuck in his mouth. She moved back that way by instinct.
There was a thump from the cabinet nearest the fridge, and she quickly bent and jerked the door open. Tyler looked up at her from inside, his face pale.
"I don' feel good."
And he threw up all over her new sandals.
She stood stunned and immobile for long seconds.
Brandt started crying.
"Okay," she said, voice shaking. "It's okay." She was surprised, but she knew kids threw up sometimes. It didn't mean they were sick.
Except she remembered Levi saying his stomach hurt, and then Callum's shout. If two had thrown up, did that mean they'd picked up a stomach virus?
She slipped out of her shoes, reaching for the counter to steady herself. "Does your tummy still hurt?"
Tyler nodded.
"Okay, can you sit down crisscross applesauce?"
If the boy got sick again, better to clean it from the tiled kitchen floor than the hardwood in the living room or worse, the furniture. She grabbed a package of wet wipes from the counter and did a quick wash up on her feet, then wiped up the mess on the floor with paper towels. She would have to get the mop out, but an inner urge told her to check on Callum.
She rushed down the hall in her bare feet to find Callum pulling a clean t-shirt over his torso.
She swallowed at the glimpse of skin. But she was quickly distracted by the pile of soiled clothes in the center of the floor.
"I throwed up." Levi sat on the bed in his underwear. His tan lines were stark, showing his white tummy and thighs.
"Your brother did, too."
Callum's head came up. His concern was immediate. His gaze flew to her bare feet.
"I'm fine," she said quietly. "Tell me what you need."
"I can't carry him into the other room."
She could see from the muscle jumping in his jaw how much it cost him to say the words.
"Should I start a bath?" she asked.
She didn't know where to go from here. Maybe if she'd been a mother, she would know what to do.
"No use bathing them if it's not over. You got some big bowls? And an old blanket for the couch?"
"I'll find something."
"Thanks." He held her gaze, the moment becoming a beat of understanding—and maybe something more.