8

 

“And God, please take care of my mommy, wherever she is. Amen.”

Chaney echoed Annabelle’s amen and slid Hailey’s picture back on the nightstand next to the lamp.

“An Chaney, I had fun today.” Only Annabelle’s cute pixie face poked out from beneath the covers. That, and tiny knuckles that gripped the blanket.

Annabelle stated what Chaney had been afraid to admit in her own heart. “Did you, darling?”

“Yeah. I like Conner.” From the mouths of babes. Conner stole Annabelle’s heart as quickly as he’d reclaimed hers.

“He’s sweet, isn’t he?” And funny. Add kind and gentle to the list, and great with kids. And knock down gorgeous, but she wasn’t going there with Annabelle.

Annabelle’s dark head bobbed up and down against the colorful pillowcase. “Can he be my daddy?”

Chaney sputtered, hiding it behind a cough and closed hand. Where did that come from? “Darling, you can’t just ask somebody to be your daddy.”

A frown marred Annabelle’s ivory forehead. “Why?”

“Because a mommy and a daddy have to fall in love first.” At least, that’s how she hoped it would work for her. She pointed to the frame next to the bed. “And your mommy probably doesn’t even remember Conner.” Chaney doubted those words even as they left her mouth. How could anyone forget Conner?

Annabelle’s head turned sideways against the pillow to stare at the picture, a frown replacing the happy face from moments ago. “But my mommy isn’t here. I want you to be my mommy, An Chaney.”

Chaney was Annabelle’s mother in every way except one, and sometimes, like tonight, she was tempted to accept the role officially. But she couldn’t do that without first talking with Hailey, and so far, God hadn’t opened that door.

“If I could pick any daughter from the whole world, it would be you.” Chaney tapped Annabelle’s nose, and then leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight. Sweet dreams, darling.” She rearranged the covers and flicked off the light, one hand on the doorknob. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Annabelle echoed their nightly routine.

Chaney closed the bedroom door and made her way to the kitchen.

“The princess all tucked in?” her mother asked. Carole was sitting at their small table, a cup of coffee and a stack of mail in front of her.

“Yes.” Chaney dug around the collection of coffee pods, searching for her favorite decaf blend. She finally gave up and slid the drawer closed, nudged her rump against the counter and folded arms across her chest.

“What was that huff for?” Carole asked, glancing over the top of her reading glasses, a piece of paper dangling from her fingertips.

“Do you think Hailey will ever come back?”

Her mother’s lips firmed, and she removed the spectacles with a sigh. “I don’t know, darling. I hope so. Was Annabelle asking about her again?”

“No.” Far from it. “She wants me to be her mommy.”

Carole nodded. “That’s understandable.”

“And Conner to be her daddy.”

Carole’s brows shot high on her forehead, and the glasses plunked on the table. “Uh oh!”

“Yeah. Tell me about it. How am I supposed to respond to that?” Chaney’s arms dropped to her sides, and she sank into a chair next to her mother.

Carole was silent. Just sipped from the mug, waiting her out, a gentle expression on her face. So much for any motherly advice.

“You know I’d adopt Annabelle in a heartbeat if I could just talk with Hailey and make sure she never intends to assume her maternal role. I would never take that from her.” She picked up a napkin and started tearing pieces. “But, at times like this, I feel as if my life is in limbo. I can’t move forward.”

A hand, gentle and soft, covered hers, stilling the tearing process. “That’s all God expects of us, right? To take each day as it comes and not worry about tomorrow?”

“Yes, but—”

“You’ve been OK caring for Annabelle for two years, now. What’s the real issue, darling?” Her mother’s intense gaze, along with the hand that covered hers, pinned her to the chair.

She gulped. Leave it to her mother to hone in on the meat of her discontent. “What should I do about Conner?”

“Why do you need to do anything about him?”

“He broke my heart when he left.” Her hand tugged free of her mother’s grasp to cover the sob that wrenched from her throat.

“Oh, darling.” Her mother’s arm slid around Chaney’s neck, and she pressed her forehead to Chaney’s. “I know. I know.” Carole soothed.

“He’s always held my heart, from the first day Coach paired me up with him. How will I bear it when he leaves again?” Her voice came out on a quiver.

Carole pulled back, tilting her head to the side. “What makes you sure that he’s leaving? Has he said so?”

Chaney shook her head, tears collecting in her eyes. She flicked the moisture away with the back of her finger. “No, but he’s only working part time just to get the house ready to sell.”

“Darling, he’s still here, isn’t he?”

Chaney nodded.

“And he’s helping your students with their recital?”

Again, Chaney nodded. “Because I asked him.”

“The house hasn’t gone on the market yet?”

“Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time. Everything’s in boxes.”

“Well, then, there you have it.”

Her mother wasn’t making any sense. Her face scrunched in confusion. “Have what?”

“Do you remember when we first discovered that Hailey left?”

“Of course. How could I forget?” The pain that had gripped her chest while reading Hailey’s note, and then the sweet torture of taking care of baby Annabelle, wondering if Hailey would come back and claim her daughter. That hadn’t disappeared.

“It was difficult at first. Painful, even.”

This time she waited out her mother.

“But then the days turned into months and taking care of Annabelle became easier, less challenging.”

“What does that have to do with Conner?”

“Sometimes God uses struggles and discomfort and even pain to prepare us for the good times, like with Annabelle. Can you imagine your life without that precious little one in it?”

She huffed and shuddered. “No.”

“But we may have to face that one day, if Hailey comes back. And we’ll get through it. Just like we did when Hailey left.” Her mother paused, her face softening. “Trust God, darling. Remember that His plan is so much greater, so much better, than we could ever imagine. And that He only wants what’s best for you and Conner.”

A sigh lifted her chest. Her mother was right, but that didn’t make it any easier.

 

****

 

Conner scooped up the torque wrench, humming an uplifting tune that was dancing around in his head, wishing he had his guitar to hear how it sounded. He spun the wrench around a few times, tightening the first lug nut, and then moved on to the next one, repeating the process until all of them were secure.

He inspected the tires one last time, packed up his tools, backed the car out of the shop, and handed the key and paperwork to the manager. “That’s it for me, today. See you tomorrow, Jim.”

“OK. Say, have you given any more consideration to going full time?” Jim’s brows, heavy and salted with more gray than coal black, arched.

“Can’t right now. I’m working with the kids over at the skating rink, helping them practice for their recital. They need me, too.” He grinned to take the sting out of his words, but in truth, he needed that time at the skating rink more than those kids needed him.

“Well, I won’t be able to hold off hiring someone forever.”

“I know. I appreciate your offer, but I just can’t give you a decision yet. So I understand if you need to go with someone else.”

Jim’s jaw firmed, but he nodded and waved.

Conner hopped in his truck, that tune finding its way back out his throat again as the engine growled to life. When was the last time he’d felt like humming while he worked on cars? Never? A heavy sigh lifted his chest. Chaney had everything to do with the song in his heart. Her and Annabelle. Even if he hadn’t lifted a skate to the ice, he’d still be humming because of them. He backed up and pointed the truck towards home.

Home?

The traffic light switched to amber, and his foot tapped the brake with more force than he’d intended. The truck came to an abrupt stop.

Home? Was that how he considered Evergreen Peak now? His dad’s house? When had his brain made the switch from temporary to permanent? Or was his heart the culprit?

He hit the gas.

Would he be able to stay if Chaney never returned his love? No. That would be torture.

The only certainty in his life right now was that being back in his hometown around Chaney and Annabelle, and even Carole, had put the joy back in his heart. His life now seemed…whole. Complete.

You make known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand. The verse he’d read that morning flitted through his head as he steered the truck into the driveway. He sat hunched over the steering wheel, staring at the house he’d grown up in.

The front of the house faced the mountains, and his dad had insisted that the builder maximize the view with several windows. Even the single car garage had windows, all trimmed with ebony that had faded with time and the elements. Ten steps led to the front door, and the deck was the perfect size for two wicker chairs. He could picture hanging out there on Saturday mornings in the summer, lingering over coffee and watching Annabelle play in the yard. And standing in the master bedroom above the garage, his arm draped around Chaney’s shoulders, as the sun dipped beyond the mountains.

Could life get any sweeter? Could the good memories yet to come replace the bad ones?

Is this the path You were telling me about, God? Home?

Peace washed over him. And joy bubbled up from his gut.

Thank You.