I reach out and slide my hand into his. “We’ve all been through a lot.”
Closing his fingers around mine, he looks into my eyes. “I wish I could change what happened… I only want good things for you.”
My chest tightens, and I search his gaze. “I believe you.”
Lifting my hand, he presses his lips to the backs of my fingers. My eyes are fixed on the place where we touch, and so many emotions rush to the surface… self-preservation being one of them.
“We’d better get some sleep. I have to take those kits to Pine Hills tomorrow, and Dove has her Thanksgiving party at school.”
He nods, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “Goodnight, Noel.”
Miss Jessica is wearing a smock covered in turkeys when I arrive at the nursing home. Pure bliss lights up her eyes as she takes out each product from her gift bag.
“Oh, this is my favorite eye cream.” She turns it over in her hand, examining the label. I help her remove the cap and she gives it a sniff. “I love that scent.”
She goes through the exclusive foot cream I only make for her and me now, a cinnamon-peach candle, lip balm, and my signature scent body lotion, which again, I only make for us.
“Dove is so sad she couldn’t be here to help pass out the presents, but she’s a pilgrim in the school play.”
“I’m sure she’s amazing in it.”
“She actually just gets off the boat at Plymouth Rock. I think she carries a Bible and a corn stalk.” Miss Jessica laughs, and I wrap my arms around her thin shoulders. “I am so thankful I met you that Christmas.”
“I’m thankful for you and Dove. You keep me young.” She’s so happy. It’s hard to believe she’s eighty-six now. “And how are things going with Taron? I tell you, he is such a handsome young man. Every time I see him at church, I have to fan myself.”
My lips tighten. I want to avoid this topic, but she reads it all over my face. “It seems like he’s trying very hard.”
“He is.” I nod, holding her freckled hand. “I’m just so afraid. He was my first love. I loved him without caution, without care… and he almost killed me.”
Her face grows serious, and she blinks down at our clasped hands. “I know, honey. I remember.”
“I know we’re supposed to forgive people… But how can I forget that?”
She only nods. “Only time can answer that question. I know you’ll do what’s right. You always do.”
Gratitude overwhelms me and again, I hug her closer. For a moment we sit in a silent embrace. “The store is so cute. I painted the walls a light peach shade with green trim. The floors are such a pretty pine, and I’m installing shelves and cases…”
“Oh, I wish I could see it.” Her voice has such longing, I know we can do it.
“I’ll talk to Mindy about driving you out there. If you’re able to go to church, I don’t see why you can’t come to see your old investment property.”
“My schedule’s wide open.” She’s teasing, but it makes me remember.
“I found a box of old papers, letters and things. I need to bring it for you to go through.”
She just shakes her head. “I didn’t keep anything of value in that old shed. I’m sure it’s just old receipts and accounting ledgers.”
“Still… I’ll probably look through them anyway to be safe.” I give her one last hug. “I’m headed to the school, but I’ll let you know. Maybe Taron can help us.”
I’m about to leave when her grip on my hand tightens. “Remember it’s the darkest nights that produce the brightest stars. If he’s showing you his true colors, believe him.”
“But how do I know which are the true ones?”
“You’ll know.”
26
Taron
I’m sure every parent feels this way, but seeing my daughter land on Plymouth Rock with the rest of the first-grade Pilgrims makes me proud to be an American.
A little boy speaks his lines about establishing a new country where all men can be free, but my entire focus is on the little blonde pilgrim in the back holding a Bible and a corn husk.
They sing “This Land is Your Land,” and when it’s all over, the whole room erupts into cheers. I whistle loudly, and Noel pulls on my arm.
“What?” I look down at her, and she just shakes her pretty head.
Ms. Moody steps to the mic as the children file off the stage. “Thank you, parents for coming. The children are heading to their classrooms to prepare our Thanksgiving meal for you all.”
We start moving toward the doors, but she isn’t finished. “Before you disperse, I’d like to say a special thank you to Mr. Taron Rhodes, Dove’s father, for his generous contribution to the playground improvement campaign. His ten-thousand-dollar donation not only exceeds our fundraising goal, but it will allow us to secure the latest in safety sod and even include the special-needs enhancements on our wish list. Mr. Rhodes is truly an asset to Harristown Elementary, and we are so grateful for your generosity.”
The room is silent a split second then bursts into applause. Parents make their way to where I’m standing to shake my hand and say thank you.
Noel steps back, but her eyebrows rise, and her lips part. “What did you do?”
Moving closer to her, I put my arm around her shoulders. “I talked to the principal last week. Patton sent me an email with our year-end numbers. I want Dove to have a safe playground.”
We’re moving toward the door when I catch Digger’s narrowed eyes. He turns quickly and disappears into the crowd headed to the classrooms, and I bite back a big laugh. In your face, Hayes.
Noel doesn’t miss a beat. “Dove’s safety is your primary concern?”
“Always.” Satisfaction tightens my chest, and I put my hand on her waist, leaning closer to her ear. “And Digger’s little niece can stick that in her knit cap and wear it.”
“Taron. She’s only six.”
Our eyes meet, and her lips press together, fighting a laugh. It doesn’t work. We swap a low-five before making our way to the classroom for elementary Thanksgiving Dinner.
Mindy meets us at the door of the classroom. “That’s some gift, teacher’s pet.” A twinkle is in her eye, and she pushes a lock of curly brown hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know you cared so much about playground equipment.”
“Kids play rough. It’s good they’re safe.”
“Well, I think it’s great. Merry Christmas to us all.” She pokes me with her elbow. “And if it helps her win Princess Peach, you got my vote.”
“I don’t know what you mean… Is that a thing?”
She grins and narrows her green eyes before going to help her niece who’s sitting beside Dove. Noel squats beside our daughter, and Boo is making her banana in a pilgrim hat and googly eyes talk. It’s all lively and hilarious, but Dove is quiet.
Her elbow is propped on the table, and she pokes at her Rice Krispie Treat turkey with a pretzel stick.
My satisfaction turns to concern, but Noel doesn’t seem to notice. She chats with Mindy, while I stay with the rest of the dads, observing from the perimeter.