9

 

“How’d you like to take a little detour with me?” Jack asked as they left the playground later, following a full hour of swinging and sliding and sand forts. If he lived to be a hundred and two, Jack would never tire of hearing Allie squeal, “Higher, Daddy, higher!”

Allie curled her fingers around his thumb as she scurried beside him. “What’s a detour, Daddy?”

“It’s a side trip on your way to somewhere else.”

“Sounds fun.” She nodded, brushing a lock of sweaty hair from her cheek. “Is it OK with Mama?”

“She doesn’t know. It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t think Mama likes surprises.”

“She’ll like this one.” Jack paused to kneel before Allie, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You can trust me, princess. I know I haven’t seen you…spent time with you. But, we’re going to fix that. I’ve made mistakes, lots of them, and I’m sorry for that. Real sorry. But those mistakes just make me want to work harder to fix things.”

“You were gone a long time.”

“I know.”

“Mama says everyone makes mistakes and that’s OK, so long as you learn from them.”

“She’s absolutely right.” Jack worked to keep the tremor from his voice. “So, what do you think of our detour. Are you up for an adventure?”

“OK. Let’s go, Daddy.” Allie clung to his hand as he stood and skipped to keep pace with his long strides. They crossed through the park and wandered a length of the walking trail before veering off and crossing to the other side of the street.

Lawson’s Hardware was right where Jack remembered. The old-fashioned structure, tucked among a bookstore, a coffee shop, and a row of quaint boutiques, brought back waves of memories. Jack’s dad had bought him his first tape measure from Old Man Lawson, his first hammer and a level, and later on—for his fifteen birthday—a skill saw. He still used all of them—kept them tucked carefully in his tool chest.

A bell rang over the door as they entered, and Old Man Lawson glanced up from the counter. Though his hair was now a shock of white and the stoop along his shoulders much more pronounced, a smile still lit his face, and his rich chocolate eyes danced with mischief.

“It smells funny,” Allie said as she took a few tentative steps toward the counter.

“That’s the scent of sawdust.” Jack squeezed her hand. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” She sniffed, wrinkling her nose, and sneezed. “But it tickles.”

“You get used to it.” Jack breathed deeply and, for the first time, felt a little homesick for the job he’d left in Mike’s hands. “I love the smell.”

“Then I’ll love it, too, Daddy.”

Old Man Lawson came around the counter. “Hello there, Jack.”

“Hello, Mr. Lawson.” All at once Jack was sixteen again, and buying lumber for his first professional building project—a doghouse for Mrs. Jellico’s Golden Retriever down on Eighteen Street. “How are you?”

“Just dandy. And who is this pretty doll-baby?”

“Allie…my daughter.” The word rolled off his tongue now as if he’d been using it his entire life.

“I see.” Old Man Lawson offered Allie a bin of lollipops, and she chose one that was orange-flavored.

Jack had always chosen the same type as a child. Coincidence or a product of shared genes?

“I reckon you saw the sign down on Sixth?”

“What sign?” Jack chose a second lollipop, unwrapped it, and slipped it into his mouth. The sweet flavor helped dislodge the lump that had formed in his throat. All of this was nothing short of overwhelming. “Don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’d have to be blind to miss it.” Lawson cackled in the rugged, low-pitched way that Jack remembered. “Property for sale…development property—commercial. Luke’s handling the sale.”

Old Man Lawson’s son—Jack’s childhood friend. They hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Is that so?”

“That’s what you’re into now, isn’t it—commercial land development?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“From what I’ve heard through the grapevine, your Mom and Dad would be proud of what you’ve accomplished. It’s too bad, what happened to them. You know…no one should lose their folks so early on. It’s a mighty sad thing.”

“I know.” The words smarted, but Jack knew Old Man Lawson meant well. After all, the curmudgeon was never known for his tact. “As for the property, I just got in this morning. Haven’t had much time for sightseeing.”

“Well, you’ll want to take a look. It’s a prime piece of land and sure to be snatched up quick, even in this anemic economy. Mill’s Landing is ripe for growth, and I’d be pleased as punch to see some of that growth carry your name—and your expert touch. I’ll let Luke know you’re in town. You plan to be around for a while?”

“Um…” Jack hesitated, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he glanced at Allie. The jet lag was catching up to him. “I’m not sure.”

“You’ll need a place to stay then, won’t you?”

The question startled Jack. He hadn’t thought ahead that far. He hadn’t really considered anything, truth be told.

“I suppose I will, at least for a few days.”

“It’s settled, then. You’ll stay at the wife’s bed and breakfast. Just so happens we’re slow this time of year. I’ll text her, let her know you’ll be by later.”

Text her? So Old Man Lawson had come into the techno-age…a sure sign that anything was possible.

“That’s very generous of you.”

“Least I can do. Your folks would do the same for my Luke.” He cleared his throat, wiped a splash of mist from the corner of his eye. “In the meantime, what can I get for you?”

“I’m planning a special project, and I hope you have everything I’ll need.”

“Sure, son. Give me a list, and I’ll see what I can do.”

 

****

 

Misty procrastinated as long as she could. Washing the dishes by hand, scrubbing the counters and mopping the floor until the entire kitchen gleamed like it hadn’t in months, soothed the ache in her heart and coaxed her pulse down to a manageable rate. The house seemed so still and quiet without Allie. Sure, it was quiet while the child was at school, but that was a normal quiet. There was certainly nothing normal about this kind of solitude. It was almost unbearable.

Allie will be back soon, Misty reminded herself. And there was work to occupy the time—a lot of work.

She gathered files and fanned them along the table. Opening her laptop, she downloaded the pictures she’d snapped at the park yesterday and clicked through each one. She kept the photos she liked, peppering them here and there throughout the Web display. The rest she deleted.

She wished life was that easy…just hit delete and make the unwanted memories—the snapshots in her mind—go away. If that was the case, she’d never again think of the time she’d watched her first sunset over Mill’s Landing with Jack, or the bouquet of wildflowers he’d brought her on her twenty-first birthday. She’d delete all the times he’d told her he loved her and just forget it ever happened. But it had happened—all of it. Allie was certainly proof of that. So the snapshots-in-time of what she and Jack had once shared set up residence in her memory like an elephant lodged in a birdhouse.

What would happen now? What was she—were they—going to do? Had Jack returned simply to claim Allie, or did he still want Misty, as well.

She forced the thought aside. Even if Jack did want to rekindle their relationship, she didn’t share the feeling. Too much time had passed and too much water rushed under the bridge. Sure, he still made her tingle at the sight of him. But he’d made her tingle before, and look where it had gotten them.

Opposite ends of the country—that’s where. Not a good place to be for either of them. Jack would realize soon enough just how much work a child could be. Days were filled with much more than trips to the playground and lunchtime banter around the kitchen table. Once he got a clue, he’d bolt for California once again. Perhaps he’d come around once a year, maybe more. It wasn’t enough. Allie deserved much better. There was no time for Misty to indulge in irresponsibility—or for her to cling to dreams that could never be. Allie needed at least one of her parents to be strong.

Misty turned her attention to the computer. Though her lips trembled, she refused to give in to tears. She’d finish the project and have it delivered to Spence Tucker in the morning, as promised.

Because once one was made, she never, ever broke a promise.