Finding Their Way Back
Автор
Jenna Mindel
Прочтений
16,1K
Глав
15
Chapter One
Erica Laine wasn’t about to spend her forty-ninth birthday alone. Her two grown daughters had called and sent cards, and even a large bouquet of flowers had arrived on her doorstep, but that wasn’t the same as celebrating in person. Nothing was as good as in person, and Erica missed being part of a family.
She should be used to being alone by now. Erica had felt alone long before her husband of twenty-seven years died last year. Dr. Robert Laine had had complications from a debilitating stroke he’d suffered three years prior, two years before he’d planned to retire at sixty-two. They were supposed to travel the globe, she and Bob.
Erica peered out the window of the four-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bath home situated on an acre between her hometown of Pine and the city of Marquette in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. It wouldn’t be long before the next chapter in her life would soon be written. Adventures beckoned her and she could hardly wait. Finally, she was leaving her hometown.
“I’m going to travel, Bob. Not like we’d planned, but at least I’ll see more of this country.”
She’d sold her husband’s house after living here for too long. Even though she’d included most of the furnishings with the sale, there was still a lot to sort through. Everyone had said to wait at least a year after Bob’s death before making any big changes. She wished she hadn’t listened.
Reminders of her husband were everywhere—at work, home and even in the community. He’d donated a portion of his investments for an ongoing medical scholarship at Pine High School. She’d had to paste on a smile for that event. She should have cut ties and moved beyond the memories here sooner. Both the good and bad.
Erica watched as a pop-up rainstorm caused little rivers of water to stream down her driveway. A quick flash of lightning, followed by a drawn-out rumble of thunder, made Erica smile. She loved summer thunderstorms. Slipping into her rain slicker, she headed out the door. She was meeting two friends for lunch whom she hadn’t seen in weeks, and couldn’t wait to hear how they’d both been.
It didn’t take long to drive to the Pine Inn Café. By the time Erica parked, the July sun had come back out with a vengeance. Steam rose from the wet pavement, making the log-cabin hotel and restaurant look romantic and maybe even a little mysterious, like some wild place in a rugged movie set instead of a small Upper Peninsula town.
Getting out of her car, Erica stripped off her slicker and threw it in the passenger seat. She took a moment to tip back her head and bask in the sudden heat of the sun.
“Hey, Erica!” Maddie Williams—no, she was Maddie Taylor now—waved.
Erica caught up to her young friend, also a widow, who’d remarried the month before. “How’s it feel to be married, what...three weeks now?”
Maddie’s bright smile spoke for itself. “Wonderful. Of course one of those weeks was spent in the Bahamas, so how could it be anything less?”
“I’m so happy for you.” Erica meant it.
Her twenty-five-year-old friend was the same age as Erica’s oldest daughter, yet a tough first marriage had made Maddie seem much older.
“Me too.” Maddie smiled. She no longer wore the big glasses she used to hide behind. She’d gained clarity along with the contacts she wore regularly now.
At church, Erica had gotten to know the man Maddie had married. Jackson Taylor led the worship team and he had roped Maddie into singing. Erica had had no idea Maddie possessed such a beautiful voice. Her friend positively glowed these days, and Erica knew it wasn’t only from her honeymoon tan.
They entered the restaurant together and met Ruth Miller-Harris, also widowed, and newly married to her business partner. Both women had been blessed with second chances at love with strong men of faith. Erica tamped down the pinch of envy that stung her heart. Surely, she was too old for such longings. She slipped into a seat at their usual table in the back overlooking the Pine Inn Café gardens.
“Happy birthday!” Ruth pushed a wrapped box toward her. “We both picked it out.”
“Thank you.” Erica picked it up, eager. “Should I open it now?”
“Definitely.” Maddie gripped her hands together as if she’d open the box if Erica didn’t.
Erica used a butter knife to break the frilly ribbon and then tore away the wrapping paper. After glancing first at Maddie, then Ruth, she opened the box. A leather-bound book was lying inside. The words Wherever you go, go with your heart were etched into the soft cover with swirls and filigree.
She lifted the book out of the box and opened it, realizing it was a travel journal, complete with pockets to stash mementos and protective pages for photographs, along with blank pages for journaling. A leather-encased writing pen was tucked inside, as well.
Erica felt her throat tighten. Her husband would have loved keeping track of their trips to reminisce over later. This was the kind of thing he might have given her. “This is such a thoughtful gift—thank you!”
Ruth smiled. “We found it here in the gift shop the last time we met for lunch, after you told us about applying for the traveling-nurse gig.”
Maddie nodded. “When do you leave?”
Erica took a sip of the water their waitress had placed on the table for each of them. “Toward the end of August. The job starts September first.”
“Wow, not long. Where’s your assignment?” Ruth asked.
“Thirteen weeks in Jackson, Wyoming.” It was the usual contract time for traveling nurses, and she’d cover for an ICU nurse on maternity leave. Her temporary licensing for that state was in the works and Erica looked forward to spending fall near the mountains. After that, who knew where she’d end up next.
“Where are you going to stay?” Ruth asked.
“I’m not sure. I was thinking of buying a camper, but with the possibility of snow, that might not be a good idea. There are year-round campgrounds in Jackson that have cabins, but that might be too costly.” Financially, Erica was pretty much set, but still, she wasn’t one to waste money if she didn’t have to. She also didn’t want to cart around a bunch of stuff to move into an apartment, or even a cabin, for only three months.
“What about a tiny home?” Maddie set down her menu. “I just saw an advertisement in the Marquette newspaper about a local tiny-home builder. Superior something-or-other. Google it.”
“Maybe I will.” Erica grinned.
She’d seen shows on cable TV about tiny-home living and had always thought it a cool concept. She had her late husband’s hefty pickup truck, so towing it shouldn’t be a problem once she learned how. But could she get one built in time?
She wouldn’t know unless she made that call and asked.
Fifty years old and I’m back home living with my parents.
Ben Fisher got up from his mother’s kitchen table after lingering over a cup of coffee. It had been a long time since he’d sat there. Much too long. “Thanks for lunch.”
She gave him a hug. “Thanks for coming home.”
“Of course.” It made sense to come here, where he’d grown up, before figuring out the rest of his life.
Atlas, his K-9 partner, barked for attention. The dog had retired from the force with him.
His mom bent to give the dog a pat. “You, too, handsome.”
“Back to work.” Ben stretched. “Come on, Attie.”
The ten-year-old Belgian Malinois had been with him for eight years while they worked in the Grand Rapids Police Department. Together, they’d helped the bomb squad search for explosives at Van Andel Arena and stood watch as government dignitaries and even presidential candidates had used the space. Attie had been his partner on patrol, too, and could sniff out narcotics with the best of them. He and Atlas had had some close calls, and Ben owed his life to the dog.
Atlas nudged his mother’s golden retriever as if asking her to follow them, but Millie was old and stayed put on the memory-foam dog bed. Atlas gave up on Millie and followed Ben out the door with a high-pitched yip. He wanted to play, so Ben threw the ball he carried in his construction belt. The dog needed new purpose as much as Ben. Atlas was used to working, and transitioning to retired life might not be easy for either of them.
Ben had moved back to his hometown of Pine, Michigan, a few weeks ago to help his son’s tiny-home construction business get off the ground. Ben’s parents had a small hobby farm and they had let Jason, their grandson, take over one of the outbuildings as a workshop. Ben couldn’t be more proud of his son for forging his own path by starting a business. Jason understood Ben’s need for hands-on work, now more than ever, and had invited his help.
“About time,” Ben’s son called out.
Ben threw the ball a second time for Atlas. “I don’t move as fast as I used to.”
Jason shook his head. “Yeah, right. You’re in great shape, Dad.”
Evidently, his ex-wife hadn’t thought so. He’d never forget how she’d dropped the bombshell of wanting a divorce by serving him papers seven months ago, right after they’d put up the Christmas tree. She had fallen for someone else and wanted to get on with her life. What irritated Ben the most was that Lori had the gall to tell him he’d find somebody new if he’d only look. Ben didn’t want to look. He didn’t want somebody new to lose. He’d wanted to stay married to Lori even though they’d drifted apart. Even though their failed marriage was mostly his fault for staying closed-off and guarded.
At least Lori had given back her wedding rings, which had been his grandmother’s. Ben planned to give the set to his daughter, Molly, if she wanted them. His wedding band would go to Jason. Ben had taken that off when the divorce was final.
“Yo, Dad. You there?”
Ben shook off his thoughts. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I’ve got to run to the lumber store.”
“Sure, no problem.” Ben had some sanding to do on the cupboards of a home they were finishing up. Sand, then stain.
Jason touched his shoulder. “You okay?”
Ben laughed, but he didn’t sound amused. More like a wounded bear. “I will be.”
His son squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll be back in, like, an hour.”
“I’ll be here.” Nowhere else to go.
Atlas nipped at his heels. He wanted the ball thrown again, so Ben obliged.
His son climbed into his truck and pulled away. The divorce hadn’t been easy for Jason or Molly. They hadn’t wanted to take sides and Ben didn’t want them to. Ben knew Jason kept in touch with Lori, and Ben wouldn’t want it any other way. His ex-wife had been a good mom. Lori had tried to be a good wife, too, but Ben hadn’t been the easiest husband.
Blowing out his breath, he got to work. And then the phone rang. Jason had forgotten to take his phone.
“Superior Tiny Homes.” Ben answered his son’s cell, the only number listed for the business.
“Hi.” A woman’s voice was on the other end. “Do you have an inventory?”
Ben nearly laughed. They were not an RV dealer. Other than a small tiny home that had been roughed in, then abandoned, they had nothing. “We build to order.”
“How long does it take?” She had a pleasant voice. Not too high or low. Nice and smooth-sounding. Soothing even.
“That depends on a lot of things.” Ben wasn’t really sure how long it took. A lot depended on the order and Jason handled all that. “My son is the one you’ll want to talk to. I can have him call you.”
“Hmm, maybe I could stop by? Is this afternoon a good time?”
Ben gazed out the open garage door toward the fields that had been cut for hay a couple of weeks ago. They looked golden instead of green, dried by the hot sun. Today’s brief rain hadn’t done much to drench the beautiful swath of land his dad still cut, baled and put up for hay. He sold most of it, but some bales were kept for his mother’s chickens. “Sure. This afternoon will be fine, say an hour and a half from now?”
“That works.”
“Do you need directions?”
“I’ll get the address off your website.” The woman had a smile in her voice.
“Sounds good. See you then.” After disconnecting, Ben got the distinct feeling he’d heard that woman’s voice before, but he couldn’t quite place it.
Her voice lingered in his mind long after the call, sounding way too familiar, like he should know it...
No way it’s her.
That voice couldn’t belong to the girl he’d wanted to marry before he became a cop. They’d been engaged, but Erica had wanted to wait until she finished nursing school. And then she’d met this doctor, a man fifteen years older than her, and that had been the end of them.
Ben figured that moving home after all these years, he’d run into a lot of folks he’d once known. He couldn’t help it that Erica Moore still lurked in his dreams on occasion. Though she was Erica Laine now and had been for years. He was bound to run into her one of these days; might as well rip off that old bandage now and get it over with.
Ben scratched the back of his neck. The only two women he’d ever loved in his life had left him for other men. Lori had said that he’d never really been there for her. That was probably true. His coworkers used to call him RoboCop because he carried out his duties in an even-keeled, emotionless way. Ben had learned long ago, when his first assigned partner and best friend had been killed right in front of him, that feelings didn’t get the job done. In fact, feeling too much paralyzed him.
Atlas dropped the ball at Ben’s feet and barked.
“Good boy.” Ben picked it up.
Attie understood him better than he did sometimes. He needed to get away from these dark thoughts. One more throw and then Ben would get to work sanding those cupboards.
Erica drove from her house toward an address she hadn’t visited in a long time. A place just down the road from the house where she grew up. The drive was as pretty as ever, with gentle hills and long stretches of daisy-dotted meadows that flowed into miniforests of pine and hardwoods.
At the long driveway, she stopped and double-checked the address on her phone, verifying it against the company website. This place used to belong to Ben Fisher’s parents, but maybe they’d sold it.
She pulled in and followed the sign for Superior Tiny Homes, then took a sharp left away from the white farmhouse surrounded by a white split-rail fence and the bright red barn just beyond. Everything looked the same as she remembered with the exception of a newer, red pole barn and a fully set-up tiny home not far from it. Surely, Ben Fisher’s parents were not builders of tiny homes. Ben’s dad had to be in his seventies by now.
She parked near the pole barn and stared at the home to the left of it. A cute little place with a wooden wraparound deck and shutters that had pine-tree cutouts. If that tiny home was any indication of the handiwork here, then she was in good hands.
Erica cut the truck’s engine and got out. She walked toward the pole barn and was met by a handsome young man who looked to be in his midtwenties.
“Hi, I’m Jason Fisher. Did you call about a tiny home?”
Erica stared at the boy, and then extended her hand. “I did. Are you related to Ben Fisher, perchance?”
Jason smiled and Erica knew that he was. He had Ben’s smile. “That’s my dad. He’ll be out in a few. What can I help you with?”
Erica’s ears tingled and her stomach tipped and rolled. She hadn’t seen Ben Fisher since the day she ended their engagement all those years ago. If she had married Ben Fisher instead of Robert Laine, this young man in front of her might have been her son.
That young man waited for her to speak.
Erica pulled herself back to the present and smiled. “I’d like to purchase a tiny home that I can pull with that truck and live in during cold months.”
Jason glanced at her truck. “Is that a Super Duty?”
“Yes. A Ford F-250.” Her late husband had purchased it four years ago, before his stroke, in preparation to buy that camper they’d wanted.
“You’ll do fine. Come on into the office and tell me about your plans and we’ll see what fits.”
She followed Ben’s son into the pole barn that had big open doors on both ends. Country music played from a radio on a shelf. Inside was a tiny home in the final stages of being built. It looked pretty big to her. There was no way she’d haul something like that across the country. She entered a corner room that had a desk, three chairs, a computer and a small window that was open. The warm summer breeze played with the papers on the desk.
Jason shoved those papers under a hammer. “Okay, let’s get started. How do you plan to use the tiny home?”
“I’ll be a traveling nurse this September in Jackson, Wyoming. After that, I’m not sure where I’ll be needed, so I’d like something easy to tow.”
“September, you say?”
“I need to leave no later than August twenty-fifth, but a little earlier would be much better.” Erica had about thirty days to remain in her house after the closing papers were signed in two weeks, give or take a couple of days.
Jason leaned back in his chair behind the desk, across from her. “That timeline might be tough to meet. I have a couple of orders ahead of yours.”
Erica bit her lip. She’d like to give Ben’s son the business. “So you have nothing in stock?”
“No.” Jason chuckled, then leaned forward. “Although, I do have a small one that is already roughed in. Would you like to see it?”
“Absolutely.” Erica followed Ben’s son through the pole-barn workshop and through another open garage door to a simply built pavilion. Underneath it was parked a seriously tiny home. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d called it small.
“So this was built in the spring but the buyers backed out. It’s not complete, but we might be able to fit it in between our other projects.”
Erica needed a more definitive answer than might, but she’d hear him out. The tiny home looked like a tall shed on wheels, although she’d never seen a shed with a little dormer. The roof wasn’t on and neither was the siding. She ran her hand over plywood. Smaller would mean easier to tow and, more importantly, back up into place. Of course, she’d have to practice. A lot.
“Let’s go inside.” Jason opened the full-size, windowed door and stepped in.
Erica followed.
The inside surprised her, looking roomier than she’d thought. Glancing up at the high ceiling, she spotted a loft. That explained the dormers.
Jason followed her gaze. “A queen-size mattress will fit nicely up there.”
Erica could use the full-size mattress from her daughter’s old room to give her more space, but how would she get up there? Surely, they’d build some steps.
Then he pointed at a framed-off room. “This is the bathroom.”
Erica laughed at the broom-closet size. “You’re kidding.”
Jason smiled. “We can get a full bathroom set up in here. Smaller fixtures, sure, but it’ll get the job done.”
“Wow.” Erica looked around. “I think this might work.”
Jason nodded. “With your truck and the proper hitch setup, you’d have no problem towing it. Let’s go back to the office and consider pricing and interior items. I can show you the original plans, but we can make some alterations based on your preferences if you choose to move forward.”
“Thank you.” Erica exited down the steps and turned to follow Jason back to the little office when she saw him.
Ben Fisher stood in the field with a large dog dancing at his heels. The dog looked like a German shepherd but with less hair. The coloring was more of a lighter tan and his muzzle and ears were a soft brown. He had a white spot in the center of his chest, too. A beautiful animal.
She watched as the first man she’d ever loved threw a tennis ball for the dog. Ben stood a little over six feet and still looked as strong as an oak. His shoulders were broader than she remembered. He’d filled out some, too. The navy T-shirt he was wearing clung to muscular arms, and for a moment or two, Erica couldn’t look away.
But then he spotted her and scowled.
All good things come to an end.
Erica waved.
The dog dropped the ball and stared at it, waiting for Ben to pick it back up. He did, and then the dog danced around him, yipping again.
“Here’s my dad.” Jason waited for Ben to join them.
The dog looked up at them and then bounded for her.
She took a step back, feeling nervous, but the friendly expression on the dog’s face made her keep still.
“Attie, halt.”
The dog stopped.
When Ben was next to the dog, he gently said, “Langsam.”
It sounded like laung-sum. What did that mean?
The dog walked slowly toward her. His paws were huge, but his face looked so sweet and his big brown eyes were gentle.
Erica crouched down and extended her hand for the dog to sniff.
He licked her fingers.
Still crouched, Erica petted the dog’s head and scratched behind his ears. “He’s beautiful. What’s his name?”
“Atlas. Attie for short.”
“A fine name.” Erica stood and faced the man she’d once been engaged to. “Hello, Ben.”
“Erica. You here to buy a tiny home?” He no longer scowled, but his hazel eyes looked stone-cold. His light brown hair was liberally streaked with gray, but that made him more handsome rather than less.
“I hope so.”
Attie nudged under her hand for another pet. He also sat on her foot.
Erica laughed and obliged the dog.
Jason looked from his dad to Erica and then back. “So you two know each other?”
We grew up with each other. Erica waited for Ben to explain, but he didn’t say a thing, so she kept her answer vague. “We went to school together.”
“Oh.” Jason narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. “Cool. Well, let’s take a look at those plans.”
Erica followed Ben’s son, and Ben’s dog followed her. When she sat down, Attie lay at her feet. Erica patted his head. “You’re a good boy.”
Jason smiled. “He really likes you.”
“I like him, too.” Erica had always loved dogs.
She turned toward the large sheets of paper Jason unrolled. All the lines made it a little hard for her to understand what she was looking at.
He turned the computer screen her way, then clicked on a couple of spots, and in moments a floor plan of the tiny home she’d just toured came to life in 3D. “Okay, here’s what we have.”
Erica listened to him explain the options and price, and soon, she could see the possibilities, but the time frame was still tight. It was a lot to take in, especially since Erica was acutely aware of Ben working on the bigger home only feet away. Why was he here? Last she knew, he lived in Grand Rapids and worked as a police officer.
“Well? Do you want to take this information, look it over and then let me know?”
Erica knew that would be wise, but something about the tall little shed with dormers called to her. She needed a traveling home and it needed an owner. “Is it just you and your dad building these?”
Jason smiled. “Yeah. It’s hard to find good help.”
Erica knew that was a problem everywhere, and had an idea. “I’d like to stay with the original options, but I’d like to propose an idea to guarantee it’s finished on time.”
“What’s that?”
“What if I worked with you to get it done?” Erica bit her lip, waiting for his response.
“Huh. Interesting.” Jason tapped the pen he was holding against his lips. “Do you have any construction experience?”
“Not a lick, but I can learn. I’m available to work two full days a week. Wednesdays, Thursdays or Fridays. You choose.”
“If you’re willing to take the minimum hourly wage, considering we’d have to teach you everything, I’d say we have a deal.”
Erica grinned. “You can take it off the final price if you’d rather, so it won’t affect your payroll and all that.”
Jason laughed. “My payroll is me and my dad. Although, he refused his last paycheck, so I’m banking them.”
That was generous of Ben, but then, parents did a lot for their kids. “Will he mind?”
Jason looked amused. “He’ll be fine.”
Remembering that frown, Erica wasn’t so sure. She didn’t want to cause any problems between a father and son. “Maybe we should ask him.”
Jason waved away her concern. “Trust me, he’s fine. Besides, it’s my decision to make. Now, let’s look over those options you’re agreeing to one last time.”
Erica nodded, but her mind wandered. If Ben wasn’t an owner of Superior Tiny Homes, what was he doing up here?
Jason pushed a paper in front of her that listed everything the previous buyers had wanted. “So you’ve known my dad a long time.”
“I grew up just down the road.” Erica had ridden the bus with Ben and their friendship started when he’d come to her rescue. A couple of older boys were picking on her and Ben stepped in. He’d only been eleven at the time. She was ten.
The memory of Ben, fierce even at a young age, made Erica smile. Until Bob Laine entered her life, there had only been Ben. Always Ben. She sometimes wondered what her life might have been like had she stayed with him. She’d loved Bob, but Ben had always hovered in the back of her thoughts. In her heart—
“Okay, Erica, if you’ll sign here. And I’ll need a check as a down payment to get started.”
Erica shut down her errant thoughts and signed her name, then dug in her purse for her checkbook. She wrote out the agreed-upon amount and handed it over.
“We’re all set, then. How’s Wednesdays and Thursdays sound for your days on the job?” He handed her another piece of paper. “Job application. Fill it out and bring it with you Wednesday.”
“Sounds perfect.” Erica stood and extended her hand. “Thank you, Jason.”
He stood as well and shook her hand. “Let’s tell my father you’re coming on board.”
Erica’s stomach rolled over. What if he wasn’t fine with it? What then? She followed Ben’s son into the shop area with heavy steps.
“Hey, Dad.” Jason actually grinned and there was mischief lurking in his eyes. “Erica’s going to help us finish up her tiny home.”
Erica watched Ben closely, but he didn’t give much away. Only his hazel eyes reflected a flash of fire that was quickly extinguished. Just as she’d feared, he wasn’t happy about the arrangement.
“An extra pair of hands should help” was all Ben said.
“Yeah. Well, I gotta run over to my house a minute.” Jason started walking away. Fast. But then he called out, “Erica, show up Wednesday around nine.”
“Sure.” Erica stood there feeling like she should ask Ben if he minded, but this was his son’s business, his son’s decision. “Well, I should probably head home, too.”
“Okay.”
Erica wanted to say something—anything—that might ease the tension between them, but came up empty. “Okay, then. Bye, Ben. See you Wednesday.”
“Erica.”
She walked out and climbed into her truck, started it and backed up. She waved as she pulled away, and sure enough, Ben still had the same frown on his face.
Wednesday promised to be interesting for sure.
