“How about we try something different,” he said as he turned off the car.
“What should we try?” she asked.
“Twenty-four hours, and we don’t talk about your parents or Mother Abigail. Give me twenty-four hours?” he asked.
“Fine with me,” she said and got out of the car before he could negotiate and say more. She knew he sensed her tension and chose to ignore it. She was grateful that Maverick never pressed her. He seems to always just let things flow with them at a pace that worked for them both.
“Hi, baby? Aww, were you sleeping in the car again?” she asked her son.
Noah rubbed his eyes. She could feel his happiness in the smile he gave her as she unlatched him. “Guess where we are, see,” she said. She took him out of the car seat and turned to show him the house.
“Ma-Ma!” Noah pointed at the house.
“She’s not here. But you got your room to have fun in.”
Noah nodded that he was happy. Maverick was right. The quarantine had left them sheltered from life. A trip just up the street felt like liberation. She carried Noah as Maverick unloaded the car. She opened the door and set him free. Noah immediately ran through the house, calling for his beloved grandmother. Delilah could smell the homey mix of her mother’s baking and her father’s shoe polish. Just remembrance of the times she shared with them in this house. Maverick came in behind her and set down the luggage.
“Hey,” she said. She stopped him from turning to leave. “Thank you. She reached up and took his face and brought his lips down to her. “Thank you for bringing me home. For knowing what I need.”
He slipped his arms around her waist. “Anything for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
LOVE HEALS
“Am I going to get a tour?” Maverick asked.
Delilah unpacked the grocery they brought inside to the recently remodeled kitchen. Her parent's house had polished hardwoods, new tiles, speckled backsplashes, and all-white cabinetry with coal-black designer appliances. He knew these improvements were Delilah’s touch.
The sound of pots banging drew his attention from her deep brown eyes. “Noah had half his body inside the cabinet, reaching with his little hands to drag out more pots. “Noah, c’mon sweetheart, not now,” Delilah said. “I blame you for this, you know?”
“Me?” Maverick frowned.
“He likes pots, but I never let him get in the cabinets. Now it’s all he does. You developed this obsession.”
Maverick had to agree. Every pot in the house belonged to the kid, as far as he was concerned. “He’s okay; leave him. Give me my tour,” Maverick insisted.
“Tour? The pace is barely 3000 sq ft,” she said with a smile.
“I’m serious,” he said.
“You really want a tour?”
“Yes,” he insisted.
“A private tour?” she asked.
“Is there an echo?” he teased. “Yes, a private tour.”
“Alright. Here it is. That is the kitchen, and that—” she gestured around.
“Very funny,” he said.
“I’m not funny. That really is the kitchen.” She swallowed her smile and set a squirming Noah back down. “I redid it for Mama’s birthday two years ago. Daddy oversaw the project. It was the only way he agreed to coming in and remodeling his kingdom. So I hired a team and let him be in charge. The contractors almost quit twice. My father is... a perfectionist.”
“Guess that explains why his daughter is pretty perfect. Real men don’t make mistakes.”
“Nice, Mr. Chauvinist.” she dropped her hands to her hips.
“It’s a compliment,” he teased.
“Really?”
“Am I losing my touch?” he asked.
“Keep on with the compliments, sir. They’ll get us both in trouble.” She looked down at her son. “We are on baby duty.”
“So, the birds and the bees is always a good lesson for kids.”
She laughed and grabbed his hand. Delilah pulled him into the next room. “Here is where company arrives. It didn’t have the same furniture we had when I was a kid, though. My parents always prefer a nice sofa and reading chair with a coffee table. The plant over there is fake. Mama doesn’t know how to garden. All the plants in the house are fake.”
“Okay... I didn’t mean this—”
“You wanted a personal tour, so here you go,” she said. Noah walked out of the kitchen with a pot lid. The toddler stayed close to his parents. Delilah led them both to the back of the house. A sunken den used as a family room was the gathering place. Delilah gestured at the design and decor with her arms opened and stretched for her presentation. There were two recliners, a sectional sofa, plus a large screen television. Toys were to the center of the floor, including a tricycle and two scooters. “We eat here. We laugh over there. We argue right there. When I was little like Noah, this part of the house was mine doing the day and my parents after bedtime.”
“Cozy,” Maverick commented.
“My dad and his brother built this extension onto the back of the house a month after he bought it. I was just a baby. Every good memory I have as a child with my parents was in this room. When I think of it, I remember it all. I was allowed to be a child here until I was, you know. Oh! I had a huge dollhouse over there and so many doll babies. I still have them in a trunk with a few boxes in the attic,” she grinned. “I wanted a daughter when I found out I was pregnant. I guess I still do.”
“Me too,” Maverick mumbled. He was sure she heard him, but she kept talking.
“We’d watch videos and have sleepovers in this room, then get up and raise hell in our treehouse.”
Maverick liked the windows. It was evident this was an add-on to the house. There were more windows than walls. She dropped his hand and went to the furthest window. “See! There it is. My dad built it with his brother Cletus who visited every year until he died of cancer.”
At the back of the house was a tall oak tree with long branches cleaned of leaves. The treehouse made of pine with an aluminum tin roof was built in the center of the tree. It was at least seven feet off the ground. It fit snug as if the tree's entire trunk grew out its branches to hold up the little retreat. A rope ladder was used to climb up the eight feet to enter through the floor. He could imagine many adventures happened for the girls inside.
“It’s still there,” she said with pride. “Snowstorm, lightning storm, windstorm, you name it, nothing shakes it. It’ll be Noah’s and his siblings if—” she said.
“If?” he asked.
She glanced over at him. Maverick waited. When he saw her scramble to explain, he laughed. “I think he has siblings in his future if I’m your future.”
“Let’s go see the bedrooms,” she said. Maverick scooped up Noah, who had started to play with some of his toys. They followed her out of the den into the adjacent hall.
“This here is the guest bathroom,” she said. “At the end of the hall is the master bedroom, which belongs to my parents. We won’t go into their room. And look at this...” she opened the door and smiled. “This is Noah’s room. Now, wait.” Her hand went up. “Put Noah down. I want you to see something.”