Only when Brad couldn’t see Valerie’s taillights anymore did he go back into the house. Instead of heading to the staircase, he strolled into his father’s study. As expected, his mother sat on the small sofa next to his father’s desk, crocheting, while his father worked through the stack of papers that sat in the briefcase he had open on his desk.

He cleared his throat. Both his parents looked up at him. His father raised an eyebrow. “It was a hard day and I brought it to the table with me. My mistake. I apologize for leaving dinner.”

After several seconds, Phillip nodded. “Apology accepted.”

Rosaline set her crocheting down and slipped off her glasses as she looked up at him. “It was good to have Valerie at the table again.”

He smiled. “I agree. Glad you had all your little chicks in the same roost tonight.”

“It made my mama heart happy.” She put her glasses back on and picked her crochet hook back up. “I saved your plate. Make sure you eat before bed.”

Brad bent to kiss her cheek. “I will. Goodnight.”

They both bid him goodnight as he left the room. He made his way to the kitchen and pulled his plate out of the refrigerator. While it heated up in the microwave, he took his phone out of his pocket but didn’t turn it on. Instead, he plugged it in and intentionally left it sitting on the kitchen counter before taking his plate up to his room.

After setting the plate on his desk, he pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, untucking it from his pants so it hung loose. He pulled a bottle of water from his mini-fridge and sat at his desk. While he ate his reheated dinner, he thought about what Valerie had said, appreciating the wisdom of her words and the simple way she shared them.

As he searched his heart, he realized that he truly served as the only remaining barrier blocking his contentment with his current position. He really should find joy in the evening work as he refurbished a building instead of resenting his brothers for the work they did every day during daylight hours. He really should have put his whole heart and mind into his job instead of withholding this little part that just clung to resentment like he had clung to the short straw when he pulled it.

He pushed his half-eaten plate away and closed his eyes, taking a deep cleansing breath and letting it out. He honestly felt like he needed to repent. As he chuckled out loud, the thought became more focused.

“I’m sorry, God,” he said audibly. “I should have looked at the opportunity you gave me as a blessing and taken into responsible stewardship. I’ll go forward with a clean heart, with ready willingness, and with gratitude.”

The simple two-sentence prayer ended with a burden releasing itself from his heart. He took his water bottle and walked over to the window, opening the sliding door and stepping out onto the small, semi-circular balcony. He sat in the comfortable lounge chair and took a sip of water while he stared at the gazebo in the moonlight.

Often, he’d start to think about Valerie and childhood, but he pushed the memories back, keeping them distant and vague. Tonight, though, they crowded his mind and he closed his eyes, remembering summers in the pool, fishing from the dock, exploring the hidden passageways his father had built into the plans of the house. He vividly remembered the last time he saw her before Tyrone—the day she had graduated from college.

He’d wanted to tell her how he felt then and there, about the love he’d carried inside for so many years. However, he didn’t feel like she would take him seriously.

Instead, he played the brother role that Ken and Jon easily fell into and just celebrated with everyone as a group, never singling her out, never pouring his heart out to her. Finding out that she’d moved in with a man a couple months later—a married man who worked for their father—didn’t make his decision to keep his mouth shut any easier. That experience taught him never to hesitate, not with important matters.

Yet, today he’d seen her twice in one day, once professionally and once personally, and still hadn’t said anything beyond normal conversation. Both his brothers had hugged her. He had given her his elbow for a stroll to her car. How long would he have to hold out until confessing his lifetime of love for her?

He leaned his head back and looked up at the night sky. The temperature had dropped significantly since the morning. In late February, the weather tended to act a little erratic. A seventy-degree high could turn into fifty overnight.

Thinking about the ongoing local jobs, and what severe weather could mean, he mentally made a note to discuss spring weather forecasts with the team in tomorrow’s weekly project management meeting. Then he shook his head. He’d left his phone downstairs on purpose, intending not to think about work at all tonight. Instead, he looked at the gazebo again.

Then he remembered. The metal box. The cards with their hopes and dreams in them. They had made a pact to open them in fifteen years. That would mean this September. Thinking of the words he’d written, his heart skipped a beat and his throat went dry. What would Valerie say if she knew that Brad had summed up all his hopes and dreams?

Wondering if he should even remind his brothers and Valerie about the box, he finished his water and stood. Maybe he’d wait to see if even one of them remembered.

Going back inside, he slid the door shut behind him and grabbed the dinner plate to take down to the kitchen.

During the drive home from the Dixon castle, Valerie found herself immersed in thoughts about the family and their unique closeness. She had grown up with them, so nothing felt wrong. She had realized halfway through high school what a unique family they were and how blessed she’d been to be a part of them. She realized how much she missed them and longed to be back with them.

By the first semester of college, she’d found an entirely different world and the Dixons became an adored family “back home” whom she rarely saw and rarely gave a second’s thought. She knew it had a lot to do with the way her faith had shifted, but it also had a lot to do with the friends she made in college, her attitude about Buddy moving them, and a freedom of movement she gained living independently for the first time in her life.

Intentionally shutting down the happy thoughts about college, she pulled into the driveway of her little house and got out of her car, listening to the chirp of the horn to confirm she had, in fact, locked the doors. At the end of the driveway, she checked her empty mailbox, then walked up the path to the front door, listening intently, looking all around her, her senses heightened.

After she opened the door and turned off the alarm, she shut it behind her, making sure to lock the deadbolt and attach the security chain. Securely inside, she started turning on lights—first the little entryway, then the overhead light in the living room, the light above the small table in the dining area space, and the kitchen light. She set her purse on the table but kept her keys and phone in her hand while she walked back through the living room, checking that the sliding lock was still secure on the coat closet. She turned on the hall light and did a quick check of the bathroom, the spare bedroom, and finally her bedroom. All the closets remained bolted shut. She didn’t actually get on the floor and look under the bed, but she did check the base of the full-length mirror she’d strategically placed next to the bed and made sure she could see the reflection all the way through to the other side of the bed.

Believing herself alone in the house and sure that no one had broken in and hidden anywhere, she relaxed fully, slipping her shoes off and pulling her earrings out of her ears. She set them on the tray on top of her dresser and rolled her head on her neck.

After she slipped her clothes off, she pulled on a nightgown covered in coffee cups and Eiffel Towers, then went into the bathroom to wash her face. As she dried off, she stared at her reflection, running her finger over the scar under her jawline caused by the flying debris of the table she’d landed on. Closing her eyes, she shook her head to clear the image then left the bathroom.

She walked back down the hall and stopped to look into the empty second bedroom. Did she want to invest in a desk for here, to turn this into an office? Or did she want to make it into a spare bedroom for any guests who might stay overnight?

Right, she snorted, what guests?

Tyrone had separated her from any college friends years ago, and he was her only approved work friend. Lying in the hospital bed, broken, cut up, and bruised, no one came to visit her until Uncle Buddy arrived followed by Rosaline and Phillip Dixon. Tyrone had worked everything until she had no world left but him.

Thankfully, she’d kept Buddy away from their relationship, in the dark about everything until she just couldn’t hide it all anymore. Buddy’s personality kept him from interfering too much, though, which gave Tyrone the idea that he didn’t serve in any way as a support system for her, and that caused Tyrone to leave their relationship alone.

If she believed God would hear her, she’d thank Him. Instead, she just felt general gratitude over the way she still had a support system in place, a family in Atlanta that still loved her. Until those lonely days of healing, she had no idea how much she needed people to care about her.

Once Auntie Rose, as Valerie had called her since toddlerhood, had come to visit, the maternal love flowed from her and Valerie felt herself getting better in response. She stayed for three weeks, sitting next to her hospital bed, then sleeping on her couch and driving her to therapies and doctor visits. Valerie honestly didn’t know what she’d have done without her.

She imagined her mother would have done the same thing—provided Tyrone hadn’t managed to destroy that relationship, of course. Aunt Rose’s presence resettled her and started her healing emotionally more than anything else could have.

She rubbed her stomach, as if she could rub away the ball of shame that came from knowing how easily Tyrone had manipulated and used her. How, oh how, could she have let that happen? What hole in her life had Tyrone filled that convinced her to allow him to treat her the way he had, without ever stopping him or confiding in someone? How could she ever trust herself to fall in love again?

With a sound of disgust, she shut the bedroom door and walked back to the entryway to make sure she had actually dead bolted the lock and secured the chain. Her mind at ease about the task, she went into the kitchen. She needed to get to the point that she didn’t think someone hid under her bed every night before she could get to the point of thinking about a future relationship that probably wouldn’t ever materialize anyway.

She could see it now. “Hi, I’m Valerie. Nice to meet you. My last boyfriend threw me off a second-story balcony and broke my hip. But don’t worry, no baggage here. I do have a lovely scar, though, from my hip replacement surgery.”

Without meaning to, she slammed the kettle onto the stove so that the sound cracked through the room. Realizing what she’d done, she covered the handle with her palm, as if trying to calm it down instead of herself, and took a deep breath. Feeling less crazy, she turned the knob for the burner, listening to the ticking sound of the gas igniting. While the water in the kettle heated, she put a bag of spearmint tea and a squirt of honey into a mug. She leaned against the counter and waited for the water to boil, thinking back to dinner tonight.

It had been so wonderful to sit at that table again, surrounded by the Dixon family. She didn’t even realize how much she’d missed being there for the last thirteen years. Walking through the gardens, pretending to jump over alligators, chatting with the boys, looking into Brad’s eyes and wishing he’d see her as something other than a sister, it all felt good and right and normal. It felt as if the rest of her life had just existed as this out-of-place event that happened to her peripherally, and the Dixon estate and family had all paused and waited for her to put her life back where it belonged.

Silly, though. She’d lived away from Atlanta almost the same amount of time as she’d lived in Atlanta.

After pouring boiling water over her tea bag, she checked the sliding glass door again, made sure that the metal bar security lock was tightly in place, then went back to the front door and double-checked the locks. Leaving the lights on, she moved back through the house and to her bedroom. She plugged her phone in next to the bed, set the five o’clock alarm, and slipped between the covers.

Phillip Dixon looked up from the job schedule he examined and saw Rosaline staring off into the distance. “He’s going to work it out,” he said.

Her lips curved in a soft smile. “Eventually. Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about his heart right now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We can’t control his heart. That’s up to someone else.”

His wife of forty years set her crochet hook into her yarn basket and stood, lifting her arms above her head and stretching left and right. “She’s back now. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll find peace and contentment.”

“Rosie,” Phillip said on a sigh, “it’s been a long time. They were just fifteen. It’s been almost fifteen years. Tell me something. What makes you think he still feels the same way?”

She walked around to his side of the desk and sat on the edge of it, leaning forward so she could put a hand on each of his shoulders. “Did you see his face tonight, love? Did you see how he looked at her? I did.”

Phillip’s jaw clenched. “I saw him walk out of dinner.”

Rosaline closed her eyes and nodded. “I know, dear. You have a year before retirement. I’m sure he’s overwhelmed, overworked, and now Valerie Flynn is back. Let’s see if things settle with him.”

“He’s the right man for the job, Rosie. I know it. You know it. His brothers know it. What’s more, he’s very good at it.”

“Of course, he is. He’s your son. He has the benefit of your wisdom and hard-earned experience.” She kissed his cheek and he inhaled the smell of her perfume. “He’ll know it when it’s time. God’s called many people who took some kicking and screaming before they settled in. We’ll just continue to pray for him and be here for him. Just like with Jon.”

Phillip felt a rush of anger mixed with sorrow. “That boy. What are we going to do about him?”

“We’ve done it, love. We’ve trained him up. Whether he returns isn’t up to us. We just love him.” She straightened and pushed off the desk. “I’m heading up. I have a women’s club tea in the morning. Don’t stay up too late.”

He stared at the open doorway to his office for a long time after Rosaline left. Pushing thoughts of Jon and his newly declared rejection of a life of Christian faith aside, he focused his mind on Brad. Each of his sons had different strengths. Before he’d promoted Brad to the presidency, he’d contemplated splitting the company up between the three brothers. But that never felt right.

In his early twenties, he’d partnered with Jeremiah Mason and created Mason-Dixon Contracting. They’d grown faster than either could hope for, but a disagreement over a single building contract caused a split between the two men and a division of the company. Jeremiah had gone into massive real estate building and city planning, and Phillip had concentrated on home building and smaller commercial projects. After Jeremiah’s untimely death, Phillip found himself in a position to buy out the company, finishing up the current projects Mason had started, and growing his bonding capacity with the profits.

The higher his insurance company would set his bond limit—the insurance that would protect investors if the builder pulled out of a contract for some reason—the more expensive the projects he could bid and win. Soon, he had his own architects and engineers, in-house legal teams, and accounting teams, and had split the residential from the commercial contracting in terms of project managers and superintendents.

By the time his boys entered his workforce, he owned one of the largest general contracting and architectural firms in the southeast. They had hundreds of jobs spanning six states going on at one time and satellite offices throughout Georgia, Alabama, Florida, and the Carolinas.

If Brad didn’t want to continue as president of his company, he’d have to split it up. He didn’t have another option. Neither Ken nor Jon had the skills to run the entire thing the way Brad ran it. If only Brad would come to see that.

As if his thoughts conjured his son, Phillip heard a footstep in the outer hall and watched Brad come into his office. He wanted to put on the hard outer shell of a disappointed father, but his heart hurt too much for his son to pretend.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Daddy.”

“It’s late,” Phillip remarked, looking at the clock and noticing the midnight hour approaching.

“I wanted to talk to you alone, before the workday starts.”

Brad still wore his clothes from the day, but he’d lost the tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and now walked around barefoot. “Sure.” Phillip gestured at the love seat where Rosaline normally sat.

Brad perched on the edge of the cushion and rested his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together. “I want to apologize. I realized, talking to Valerie before she left, that I’ve had a really bad attitude. And, that attitude is entirely under my control. Please accept my apology and know that I will enter the building tomorrow morning with a fresh look at the opportunities God has placed in front of me.”

Phillip felt his chest swell with emotion. He pushed his chair back and stood, walking around to sit next to Brad. “Son, I want you to know that God has you there. This is you giving in to His will, not mine.”

Brad’s lips curved in a smile. “Yes, sir. I understand. I’ve already had a talk with Him about it.”

Phillip laughed and slapped Brad on the shoulder. “Fair enough, son.” He stood and gestured toward the door. As they walked out together, he turned the light out behind them. “I look forward to tomorrow.”

Brad took the stairs twice as fast as his father, stopping halfway up them to smile down at him. “Me, too,” he said, before finishing the climb and going to his room.