Sit down here.” Adrea motioned to a bench. Heart ricocheting, she grabbed her cell phone from her pocket. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No, don’t.” Grayson sucked in a ragged breath between each word. “I’m feeling better.”
“You sure?”
“I tried to run and hurt my knee.”
That didn’t explain his shortness of breath.
His eyes darted to the little boy.
Taking his cue, she knelt to the child’s level and tried to sound calmer than she felt. “He’ll be just fine.”
After several breaths, the gasping gradually eased. “With my bad knee, I can’t keep up with these two. I could just see Cocoa running into traffic, with Dayne right on his tail.”
Tires locked up and squealed nearby, as if for emphasis.
With a wince, he closed his eyes.
Adrea cringed, waiting for the crash. Thankfully, none came.
Grayson cleared his throat. “Dayne, did you say thank you?”
The boy turned his tear-streaked face toward her. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I love dogs.”
Several chocolate-colored hairs stuck to the boy’s wet cheeks.
“Maybe you should take this.” Adrea handed the leash to Grayson and fished a fresh tissue from her pocket to wipe away the fur and tears.
“We really appreciate your help.” With his breathing returning to normal, he placed a firm hand on his son’s shoulder. “Don’t ever run off like that again, Dayne.”
“Sorry, Daddy.” The boy looked at the ground.
“If Cocoa ever gets away again, just call him. Once the squirrel climbed the tree, he would have come back if you had simply called him.”
“But I don’t want him to go to heaven, too.” The boy’s chin puckered.
A hard lump formed in Adrea’s throat.
Grayson hugged his son. “He probably wouldn’t have run into the street. He’s smart. Full of life, but smart. From now on, I’ll hold his leash.”
“Okay.”
Adrea watched in silence, until Grayson turned back to her.
“Sorry to drag you into our little melodrama.” Grayson’s voice fell flat. No life left. “Dayne, this is Adrea. She does Mommy’s flowers.”
The boy shook her hand. Adorable.
“At Miss Helen’s store? She goes to our church.”
“Actually, my sister and I just bought the shop, but Miss Helen still works a few days a week.” She tweaked the child’s cold-reddened nose. Though he was blond, he had his father’s striking green eyes, paired with numerous dimples.
“Again, we appreciate your assistance today.” Grayson clicked his tongue at Cocoa. “We better go; I need to get to the church and it’s colder than I realized.”
She watched him leave. Going through the motions for his son’s sake.
Alone at the shop at the end of a long day, Adrea couldn’t get her mind off the encounter with what was left of the Sterling family, though two days had passed. For six years, she’d created white rose arrangements for Sara and never met them. Now, she’d bumped into Grayson three times within a week. Weird.
She reached up to the top shelf to retrieve the silver-filigree keepsake box. Inside the red velvet lining, she dug until she found the card.
Thank you for your gesture of kindness.
My family and I will never forget your thoughtfulness.
May God bless you,
Grayson Sterling
Tracing her fingers over the handwritten, masculine script, she remembered the white rose casket spray she and Helen had lovingly put together. With no bill. She placed the card on top, closed the lid, and put the box away.
She checked the doors one more time and hurried to her car. The fuel gauge demanded her attention. Though she loved her hometown, it would be nice not to have to drive seven miles just to get gas.
As she entered Rose Bud, the cemetery beckoned. Not a living soul stirred. She pulled into the gravel parking lot.
The heavy iron gate groaned as she stepped through. With no clue where Grayson Sterling’s wife was buried, Adrea strolled across the hardened earth covered with dormant yellowed grass. Indented graves interspersed with more recent, rounded mounds. Row upon row of aged, weather-beaten, and faded tombstones mingled with dust-spattered glossy newcomers.
A bird burst from a spindly bush. She pressed a hand to her heart. With a panicked beat of wings, the sparrow flew away.
Just as she was about to give up, she caught a glimpse of the white roses. They stood out among the other vibrant flowers and led her to a grave marked by a large, polished headstone.
Adrea remembered Sara’s youthful beauty well, from the newspaper articles about the senseless hit-and-run accident that took her life. After running into the family left behind, seeing the cold marble monument brought the tragedy into sharp focus once again.
With a shiver, she read the epitaph: BELOVED DAUGHTER, WIFE, MOTHER: GONE TO MEET JESUS.
At least Grayson Sterling knew where to seek comfort for his grief. With a heavy heart, for someone besides herself for a change, she trudged back to her car.
A profound thought wrenched her gut.
“God, are You shoving him in my face to show me something? That’s it. You’re showing me that he’s lost more than I ever thought about losing and he’s going on, preaching Your sermons and raising his son—while I wrap myself in self-pity and bitterness, coveting other people’s weddings. I lost a man I didn’t need. A man who couldn’t be faithful and couldn’t be strong enough to beat the bottle.”
She dropped to her knees on the cold ground.
“Oh Lord, forgive me for my selfishness and be with Wade. He needs You to help him get sober again. He knows You, Lord. Help him to let You reintroduce Yourself.” As she prayed for the man who’d broken her heart, the bitterness melted away. Forgiveness settled in her soul. A forgiveness she hadn’t realized she needed to give. “Thank You, Lord. Thank You.”
Before standing she added, “And, Lord, please be with Grayson and his little boy. Their world shattered two years ago, and I know they’re still suffering. Give them comfort and strength, as only You can. Amen.”
Grayson turned into the driveway of a rambling, old, two-story house on the outskirts of Romance. He rechecked the address. It had to be the right place, but it certainly didn’t look like apartments. Yet, there were several cars parked out front.
A large enclosed balcony gracing one entire side of the house erupted with flowers, despite the chilly winds of late February, while only a few potted plants or lawn chairs dotted the wraparound porch. Must be divided into separate living quarters. A shame. He loved aged, spacious homes and hated seeing them cut up into apartments or converted into businesses.
A siren moaned in the distance. He took several deep breaths.
Stop being absurd. Every ambulance doesn’t carry someone I love inside.
The siren drew close. Pressure welled in his chest, threatening to burst through. The ambulance wailed past. He prayed. Relax…inhale…exhale.
Think. Sis is in the middle of catering a wedding. Dayne is at Mom and Dad’s house. None of them would be on the road right now. The pressure eased.
Regaining control, he sat a few minutes longer, then stepped from the car.
Inside, he saw a long hallway with a door on each side and a staircase in the middle. He climbed the steps, located the right number, and rang the bell.
When the door barely opened, it wasn’t a young seminary graduate who greeted him. Instead, he peered through the crack at a child.
“May I help you?” the little girl asked.
“Does Mark Welch live here?”
“Yes, but he’s in the shower. You can wait if you want.” She started to close the door. “Sorry, but you’re a stranger.”
“That’s true. I’m fine out here.”
If only he could have gotten in touch with Mark. Moving the meeting up, with someone he’d never met before, might make Mark feel uncomfortable.
Within minutes, Grayson heard a male voice. The chain released and the door opened. A man, his dark hair still damp, beckoned him inside with a frown.
“She’s out in the greenhouse.” The man waved toward glass doors. “I’d like to give you the third degree, but I have to leave soon for an appointment. Count on it next time, if there is a next time. For now, you’re welcome to go on out. Just watch yourself.”
The man, presumably Mark, darted down the hall, leaving Grayson no chance to explain his presence. Moments later, the whir of a blow-dryer sounded from somewhere.
Unsure of what to do, he walked around the island, separating the floralthemed living room from the sunny yellow kitchen, toward patio doors. A woman knelt inside the glassed-in balcony, surrounded by an explosion of colorful blossoms.
She worked with the various plants, unaware of him. Potting soil streaked her red T-shirt and blue jean shorts, smudged her face, legs, and feet. With her long brunette hair pulled into a high ponytail and dirt everywhere, she was beautiful.
The splendor of the small, carefully tended garden came nowhere near the beauty of the woman in its midst. He studied her profile, the slight upward tilt of her small nose, the soft curve of her lips. Red polish adorned all twenty nails. Despite the grime, she exuded elegance.
Something familiar about her tugged at him. Adrea Welch. Of course, Mark and Adrea Welch. Adrea Welch is beautiful—and married. Grayson backed away from the door.
He didn’t remember the deacons saying Mark was married with a child. He’d slogged through so many résumés they’d all begun to run together. And he’d never been detail oriented.
One detail stood out. Adrea was not available.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. Great. I’m betraying my wife by finding this woman attractive and on top of that, she’s married.
The pressure started to build in his chest once more.
Why should I care if this woman is available? She’s simply the florist. End of story.
His left temple throbbed.
Sara.
He’d never considered whether a woman was single or not—had never cared, even since his wife’s death.
Bewildered and a bit frightened at such foreign thoughts, he considered leaving.
Adrea looked up and saw him.
Acting quickly, so she wouldn’t realize he’d been watching her, Grayson opened the door. The moist potting soil mixed with the perfume emitted by dozens of different sweet-smelling flowers in the surprisingly warm room.
“Hello.” Surprise reverberated in her tone. Her arched brows drew together. With the sun still peeking over the roof, she shielded her eyes to look up at him.
He forced words from his constricted throat. “Mark has an appointment at the church with one of my deacons, who can’t make it. I tried to call but didn’t get an answer.”
“You’re here to interview him?”
“I decided to come and invite him to a casual lunch instead. I tried to let Mark know about the change in plans.”
Adrea retrieved the cordless phone from a soil-strewn bench. “I guess the battery is low—or filled with grit.”
Grayson concentrated on the flowers surrounding them. Greenhouse lights warmed pink orchids, white lilies, purple irises, and a whole host of others he couldn’t identify.
The young girl, maybe a few years older than Dayne, sat on a redwood bench with a terra-cotta pot between her bare feet. Bent almost double, she planted bulbs. If only he’d noticed her before. She’d probably seen him watching Adrea.
“This is Haylee, my—”
“We already met.” Haylee blushed. “I answered when I went in to get a drink.” The little girl wagged a finger. “But I didn’t undo the chain. I thought he was a stranger.”
“And you acted appropriately.” He smiled at the child, hoping to relieve her anxiety. “Mark told me I could wait out here.” In a roundabout way.
“Why didn’t you tell me someone was at the door, Haylee?”
The girl shrugged. “He didn’t ask for you.”
Adrea patted the child’s knee. “Next time, let me—”
The door slid open, and Mark popped his head out. “Yo, Adrea, I need help with my tie.”
“Sure, I’m coming.” She clapped her dirt-coated hands together and wiped them down the sides of her shorts. “Let’s go inside, Haylee. We’ll finish up here after Mark leaves.”
Grayson stepped aside to allow Adrea and Haylee access.
Mark waited in the kitchen, dressed in a tan suit, his hair now dry.
“Don’t come near me, Adrea. You’re covered in grime.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be washed up in a minute.”
“No time to wait.” Mark paced the living room.
“Take deep breaths and I’ll be right with you.” She dashed to the sink.
In the adjoining living room, a Road Runner cartoon transfixed Haylee.
“So, Mark, you graduated in December?” Grayson leaned against the dividing island.
“Yes.” Mark frowned.
“I’m sorry, I tried to call—”
“Okay, let’s see about that tie.” Adrea returned, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
The smudges had disappeared from her face.
“Hurry, Adrea.” Mark fidgeted.
She put her hands on his shoulders. “If you’d be still, I could tie it faster.”
Grayson’s insides squirmed as the intimate scene served up a painful reminder of him and Sara on a busy Sunday morning.
“You’re not making a very good impression on Pastor Grayson.” Adrea whispered in Mark’s ear.
“Pastor Grayson?”
“Sorry, I never got around to introducing myself. I’m Grayson Sterling.”
“You’re the pastor?” Mark disentangled his tie from Adrea and turned around wide-eyed.
“Nice to meet you.” Grayson offered his hand. “My deacon, Dr. Tom Deavers, got called to emergency surgery, so I decided to meet with you instead. I studied under Professor Cummings at seminary and he highly recommended you.”
With a stiff handshake, Mark hung his head. “I’m so sorry, Pastor; I had no idea. I thought you were here to see Adrea.”
Odd. What kind of man encourages his wife to have male visitors? She must meet with vendors for the floral shop at their home often, hence the comment about the third degree.
“No need to apologize.” Despite his own discomfort, Grayson tried to put Mark at ease. “A simple misunderstanding.”
“Let me finish.” She moved in for another attempt with the tie.
“No need for the tie, either. I’m not wearing one. Relax. We’re just two men of God, having a casual lunch together.”
“It’s nice of you to suggest Mark doesn’t wear it, but if he takes off my hard work, I’ll hurt him.” She laughed, a melodious sound, and patted the tie. “There, all done.”
Grayson shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Sorry I have to leave, Haylee, but we’ll do something fun when I get back.” Mark tousled the child’s hair.
At the Rambler Café in Rose Bud, the waitress, with eyes full of sympathy, seated them at the corner table. She took their order and scurried to the kitchen. Grayson understood. Everyone felt sorry for him, whether they knew him or not. Sometimes he wished he could escape from the cloying compassion. He’d love to get away. Far away. To somewhere people didn’t know what had happened. Away from the crushing weight of his grief.
Grayson surveyed the plank walls, the shelves above each window lined with plants, antique books, and plates. His gaze strayed to the table by the window. Nothing unique about it, just melamine with black chairs. His and Sara’s table.
He took a sip of coffee. “All of the other applicants are from other states. I was hoping for someone local, so when I saw you studied under Dr. Cummings, then read his letter, I wanted to meet you.”
Mark fiddled with his paper napkin. “Listen, back at the apartment. I’m sorry I thought you were there to see Adrea. She’s had a rough time lately.”
“No harm done.” What happened to her? Anything to do with the drunk? “I need someone fast.”
Mark’s hands stilled, and his eyes met Grayson’s.
Grayson shifted on the squeaky vinyl seat. “I’m having a hard time. Now.”
“I’d really like to help you.” Sincerity shone in Mark’s gaze.
“For the past two years, I’ve gone through the motions.” Grayson cleared his throat. “My pastoring skills have slipped. I’m running on empty, and I have a hard time focusing enough to study. My son needs me. I’m all he’s got, and I’m afraid the church takes too much of me away from him. To be honest, I’m rethinking my decision to stay at Palisade.”
Mark’s jaw clenched. “I don’t feel a call to pastor.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
The waitress brought their drinks.
“I tried to convince the congregation they could get someone else. Someone who wouldn’t need an associate.” Grayson sipped his sweet tea. “But they still want me to stay. If you take the position, you’ll handle most of the evening services for a while, at least.”
“I can do that.” Mark squeezed a lemon slice into his ice water, ripped a blue packet open, and stirred its contents into his glass.
“Members of the congregation aren’t telling me their problems, health issues, nothing.” He looked out the window. A tractor putted along with a large, round hay bale on the fork. A convoy of vehicles followed. “Right now, I need to focus on Sunday morning and the pastoring part.”
“I’m your man.” Mark ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “A lot of associate pastors go into the field with the intention of moving up to senior pastor. Not me. I feel God called me to be a helpmate. To take the load off, in whatever area needed.”
“Every time I tell God I’m quitting, He gives me a good kick in the backside. Maybe He’s answering both our needs.” Grayson swallowed hard. “Let’s talk doctrine.”
The waitress approached, her tray laden with food.
While Adrea cleaned the already clean kitchen, Haylee finished watching the vintage cartoon DVD.
“Beep, beep.” The Road Runner outsmarted Wile E. Coyote once again.
Palisade had never had an associate and even when Mark told her they were looking into it, she didn’t really think it would happen. Adrea had never expected Grayson’s path to intersect with Mark’s, much less have him appear on her balcony. All manners had flown from her head. She hadn’t even asked if he wanted something to drink.
Why did Mark think he came to see me?
After the cartoon ended, they ate lunch and finished potting, then washed up. Adrea glanced at the clock.
Two hours had passed since Mark’s departure. A nice jog in the park would be good about now. Jogging always burned nervous energy and made the time pass faster.
Mark’s key clicked in the lock. He stepped inside, pulling his tie loose with a preoccupied look, revealing nothing.
“How did it go?” Sound optimistic.
“I don’t know. We got off to such a bad start with my assuming he was here to see you. I should have known. I guess I was hoping you’d met someone.”
“He stared at Adrea,” Haylee said.
“He did? When?” Mark frowned.
“Before she saw him, when we were out on the balcony. I watched him, standing inside the door, staring at her.”
With heart and mind racing, Adrea searched for an explanation. “I’m sure he was surprised to find me here. He’s bought flowers from the shop for several years.” She touched Mark’s arm. “It wasn’t a bad start. A little misunderstanding. No big deal.”
The furnace clicked, then kicked on with a steady hum. “Yeah, but since I didn’t realize who he was, I promised to give him the third degree in the future and sent him in your direction.”
Adrea felt the warmth of a blush. “You weren’t expecting your interviewer to show up here. I’m sure Grayson understood and thought the whole thing funny.”
“It was kind of funny.” Haylee giggled. “You should have seen the look on your face when you realized who he was.”
“See?” Adrea poked Mark in the ribs. “Tell me about lunch.”
“He just asked me doctrinal questions. At least we’re on the same wavelength there.”
“That’s good. Listen, God will put you where He wants you, no matter how your interviews go. And this is probably only the first of many.”
“In the meantime, let’s go to Searcy. Maybe the roller rink.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Any takers?”
“Yay!” Haylee clapped her hands.
Grayson stood at the kitchen sink, ever-present coffee cup to his lips. In the backyard, Dayne cavorted with Cocoa. Giggling and barks echoed. The dog had been a blessing and kept Dayne company.
The aged panes of glass needed the cracked caulking scraped away and reapplied. Maybe storm windows, too. The old house supplied endless projects. A good thing. Kept his mind busy.
The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” Grace laid the cone of white icing beside a cookie sheet lined with pastries.
Ginger and vanilla. Still warm. His hand hovered over a delicate cream puff. She’d know. She always knew.
“Ahem.”
He turned to see Helen Fenwick in the doorway, holding a casserole dish with both hands.
“You didn’t have to do this.” A whiff of lasagna made his mouth water. “But I’m glad you did.” He took the pan and set it on a hot pad on the counter.
“I heard Grace mention she had a wedding and a birthday today, so I knew she wouldn’t have time to feed you and Dayne.”
Her smile seemed forced.
“That’s so thoughtful of you.” Grace returned to her pastry decorating. He pulled out a chair for Helen. “Sit down.”
“I didn’t come to stay. You eat your lunch while it’s still hot.”
“Only if you’ll share it with me.”
“Very well then.” She sat. “Where’s Dayne?”
“In the back with his dog.” Grayson unwrapped the foil pouch on top of the lasagna dish to reveal garlic and butter steaming from the thick toast fresh from the oven.
“Okay, I’m done.” Grace balanced several flat boxes on her hip. “Since you were so good at not stealing anything, I left you a few treats. Be back later.”
“Bye, dear.” Helen’s eyelids looked puffy.
Grayson waited until they were alone. “Is everything all right, Helen?”
Moisture pooled in her blue eyes. “You have enough of your own problems.”
“I’m your pastor.” He handed her a tissue. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s Wade.” She dabbed her eyes. “He’s back in town.”
“Is he drinking?” Helen had often asked for prayers on her alcoholic son’s behalf.
“Yes. Off and on since his broken engagement a couple of years back.”
“Why haven’t you told me this?”
“I didn’t want to burden you with anything else.” Her hand trembled. “I shouldn’t have told you now.”
I have to pull myself together. The congregation—my congregation needs me.
“I was headed for the church after lunch. I’ll wrap up a few things there and we can go talk with him, if you like.”
She shook her head. “One of the deacons can help me with Wade.”
“I’ve wanted to meet him anyway. Is he staying with you?”
“No. He’s at some horrible motel-turned-apartments in Searcy, a good forty-five-minute drive.”
An ominous chill crept down Grayson’s spine. “I know where that is.” Basically, a drug house.
Adrea climbed the staircase two steps at a time, glad to be home after a long week at work. She loved the greenhouse with its private entry and her garden there. Yet, she longed for a real home instead of an old house with all its character slashed into four tiny apartments. A real yard, instead of a lot shared by all the tenants…A real place of her own.
She stepped around Mark’s shoes in the middle of the floor. The apartment definitely felt more like a home with him there, even if he couldn’t manage to pick up after himself.
“I’m home.” No response. She checked the oven and announced louder, “I’m home.”
“Yo, Adrea. It’s about time.” Mark’s voice came from his room. “I’m starving.”
His running joke, ever since they’d rented the first Rocky movie, always made her smile. “Is food all you ever think about?”
“When I’m hungry, it is.”
Minutes later, Mark stepped up behind her in the kitchen. Adrea turned to tousle his hair.
“So did you hear anything from any churches?”
“Not yet.” Mark plopped on the couch. “So you’d met Grayson Sterling before?”
Just the sound of his name made her pulse flutter.
“At the shop a few weeks ago and then we sort of ran into each other at the park.” Adrea chose her favorite paring knife and sliced a tomato. The sharp blade cut clean lines through the soft pulp. “He’s had a standing order for his wife for six years.”
Until a hit-and-run driver carved his heart apart, just like the tender fruit in her hands.
“He still buys the flowers even though she died?”
A knot formed in her throat. “He takes them to the cemetery.”
“Sad.” Mark looked at the floor.
“He always comes to sign the card personally.” She arranged the slices on a saucer. “The salesclerks call him Prince Sterling, and his four annual appearances are the highlights of every year.”
“So, with all those visits to the shop, you never met him until a few weeks ago?”
Adrea shrugged. “I never work out front. So, what did you think of him?”
“Knowledgeable, compassionate…I could work with him.”
“Maybe you will.” It’s so nice to have him home, Lord. In the few months since he’d graduated, he’d become so ensconced in her routine, it almost felt like he’d never left. Please keep him close. “God will work it out and put you exactly where He wants you.”
“I forgot until I put this shirt on today.” He pulled a small jewelry box from his shirt pocket. “I bought you something before I left Memphis.”
“You didn’t have to do that. How sweet.” Finished with her task, she washed her hands and sat down beside him. She opened the gift to find a tiny ring with a pale yellow stone. “Oh, how pretty.”
“It’s a toe ring.”
“I’ve never had one.” Adrea stooped to her bare foot and slipped the ring on. “Is that the right place to wear it?”
“Beats me. Rachel will probably know. I got her and Haylee matching bracelets, but this made me think of you. Those toes need all the help they can get.”
“Thank you. I love it, despite your tasteless remark.” She threw the empty box at him.
He ducked. The phone rang and Mark grabbed it.
“Hello? Yes. It’s good to hear from you. Really? When do you need an answer? Yes, I’ll get back with you; and thank you.”
“A church?”
“Palisade.”
Her breath caught. Grayson’s church. “Well, of course they want you. Why wouldn’t they?” Palisade would keep him in Romance. She should be thrilled.
“It’s a trial period. Interim type thing.”
“When do you have to answer?”
“Couple of days. I better go do some praying.”
She hugged him. “I’m so proud of you. First interview and you ace it.”
Adrea turned into her parents’ drive. Sam and Theo Welch sat in the porch swing, swaying slowly in the March breeze, both still trim and athletic. Mom’s dark auburn hair remained without a trace of gray, with no help from her hairdresser. Daddy’s thick mane had long ago turned silver; his rich brown eyes surrounded by laugh lines.
“Mark hasn’t shown up for his own celebration dinner?” Adrea rolled her eyes.
“No and dinner’s ready.” Mom propped a hand on one hip.
A three-legged calico cat sat on the step.
“Hey, Tripod.” At the sound of his name, he curled around Adrea’s ankles. “Hey, boy, I missed you, too.”
She picked Tripod up to scratch his special place along the side of his throat. He purred his appreciation. The long-ago abandoned cat had been her last rescued stray before she left home.
Only a kitten then, it seemed he was so grateful, he’d never put on “cattitude” airs. When Adrea called, he came, just like a dog. Now around seven years old, she longed to take him with her each time she left, but her landlord didn’t allow pets.
Mark turned in and parked next to her car. She set Tripod down.
“Yo, Adrea. I’m starving.”
“Imagine that.” Mom swatted at him, then followed with a warm embrace. “Dinner’s ready. Just waiting for you. The others are inside.”
Adrea lagged behind to walk in with him. “You look tired.”
“I’ve prayed over this decision more than I’ve slept lately.”
“So since you have a job, do you think we could get a house one of these days?”
“A house, huh?” Mark laughed. “Palisade can’t pay an associate that much. I’ll probably have to do some counseling on the side. And besides, it’s just an interim.”
“Yes, but they’ll love you.”
“You always have such faith in me. Someday, you’ll have a husband to buy a house with. All in God’s timing.”
A sigh escaped. “I’m fine, but not fine enough to go there.”
Mark stopped on the porch and gently gripped her forearms. “I just want you to know, you’re young, beautiful, and precious. Just because you fell for a jerk in disguise, your life isn’t over. I know how much you want a family and I’m praying for your future.”
She blinked away the sting of tears.
He kissed her forehead.
Rachel, her husband, Curt, and Haylee joined the procession to the kitchen.
The aroma of pork loin permeated the air. A dish Adrea hadn’t mastered. While Mom’s turned out moist and fork-tender, Adrea’s attempts came out dry and the consistency of cardboard.
“Will you ask the blessing, Curt?” Daddy asked.
As the family bowed their heads, a symphony began to play on Adrea’s cell phone. She grabbed it. An unfamiliar number appeared and she turned it off. All eyes were upon her.
“Sorry about that.” Adrea turned the ringer off.
The doorbell rang.
“Who could that be?” Mom frowned.
“Y’all go ahead. I’ll get it.” Adrea jumped up, intent on ridding her family of interruptions.
As she swung the heavy oak door open, every nerve ending reverberated.
How could he have the nerve to come here, especially with Mark around? By the looks of him, Wade really didn’t know what he was doing.