Chris leaned to unbuckle Kacey, murmuring, “Poor little guy. Momma made you cold, didn’t she?”
I was paralyzed. Now what? My plan had failed. Chris tucked Kacey against his shoulder and headed toward the front door. “Let me know when you get to Texas. Don’t want to worry about you.”
His long strides took him through the front door in record time, and I flinched out of my haze, hurrying after them. Right as I neared the threshold, it slammed in my face. The slide of the deadbolt penetrating the quiet night.
“Chris!” I tried the handle. “Chris!”
Nothing.
“Chris, open the door.” I beat on it with the heel of my hand. “You can’t leave me out here!”
I paused to listen.
He won’t leave me out here, will he?
Panic gripped my vocal chords. “Chris! Please!”
Surely, he didn’t realize he’d locked me out. My teeth chattered. I had no phone, keys, or money. I only had a thin sweatshirt between me and the chill of the wee morning hours.
Tears raced down my cheeks as a flush of anger so heavy and thick heated my body. Hurt feelings and furious words spilled out of me. After five minutes, I plopped down on the steps, my hands throbbing from banging on the door.
I lifted my face, glancing across the street. A soft glow illuminated my new neighbor’s window. A dark shadow stood against the blinds, cracking the slats open. When I looked up, the crack disappeared and the shadow backed away.
Great. Now the neighbor knows we are dysfunctional.Yellow glow from our own windows lit the porch and the barren garden beds alongside the walkway. The front of Chris’ house was ugly—lifeless. He’d never bothered to beautify it, so neither did I. But gardening fascinated me. I’d always wanted to have a garden of my own. To toil for a harvest seemed a romantic task. But it required trial and error. Mess-ups and dead plants. Problem-solving and fixing. Dedication and commitment.
And I waswaytoo tired for all that.
So the beds stayed bare. I hated them.
If things had been different, maybe we’d have tulips and daffodils sprouting. Maybe I’d have perennials bursting to life with the newness of spring. Maybe I’d have a wide-brimmed hat to wear in the sunshine and a teensy pair of gloves for Kacey. Maybe we’d plant tiny seeds and learn about how they grow. Maybe it’d become the safest place in the whole wide world.
Chris’ figure passing through the house jerked my attention back to the door. I jumped up, slamming my fists against it. “Chris!” I kicked the door to protect my stinging hands.
I shrieked, “Please!”
His shadow hesitated a moment.
But the lights clicked off and darkness overwhelmed me.
THREE
Jack
Ipushed into the Moores’ kitchen via the side door. Inside, my frazzled sister had one of the girls in a carrier on her chest and was bent forward, tapping the tops of cupcakes in the oven with one hand and protecting the baby with the other. Her eyes lit up as she looked over her shoulder. “Jack! My savior!”
“Oh no. What’s wrong?”
“You picked the perfect day to be early.” She nodded toward her other baby who sat in a swing, red-faced in protest. “Do me a favor and grab her so she’ll stop fussing.”
I scooped the angry baby into my arms. “What’s wrong, Winter?” At six months old, Winter and Woods looked so similar. But I was getting it down. Winter had droopier cheeks. I held her pink onesie-clad body against my chest and lightly patted her back. “What do you need, sis?”
“Mostly someone to take care of Winter. The twins have been fussy today and have barely napped, so I am superbehind schedule.” She glanced at a gray clock on the wall and swiped a strand of hair out of her face. “Pat is dealing with an unhappy client, and Sunny is going to be home from therapy in about an hour. A few of her friends are coming to game night.” Her smile contradicted her eye roll. “They demanded cupcakes like a bunch of five-year-olds.”
Her cupcakes were still in the oven. Piles of dishes wrapped around her kitchen counter and clean laundry was all over the couch. For a mom of twins, she was doing great. But in terms of game night, she was behind. Horribly so.
I chuckled. “Give me the other backpack thing and I’ll help.”
“Oh! That’s a good idea.”
