Sinks. Soars. Panics. I don’t actually know the correct term for how it feels. I think I’d be much better at deciphering it if I knew what was actually going on. What I do know is that there are about ten men with hard hats, papers, and work boots standing in her yard. I don’t have to roll my window down to smell the sawdust or hear the sound of drills and saws—there’s enough of them littered across the yard.
But why are they here? Did she start the project without telling me? I know she’s entitled to do whatevershe wants, given it’s her house, but I wanted to be a part of this with her. To help her.
God, if she puts herself in even more debt for this, I’m going to scream, cry, and probably throw up all at the same time. But Mom wouldn’t do that. I know her. She’d put her needs and wants to the wayside and sell it, just to make sure anyone who loved her never got a chance to intervene in her mess.
Mess.What she considers a mess is what I consider a blessing.
She is a blessing.
I’m quite positive my stress response takes over the minute I park my car on the side of the road. I swing my door open and stride to the group of workers huddled together. “Hey! Buddy…buddies. What’s going on here?”
“Just doing our job, ma’am,” says the guy I’d take an educated guess is the foreman.
“And what exactlyisyour job here?” I’m getting sassy, but this is the last thing I expected. I’ve hardly been gone a week, and it’s as if all my plans and meetings with Tom were for nothing. Speaking of…where is Tom? Oh my god, I hope he doesn’t think I dropped him without any courtesy or anything. He’s been so good to us.
The older gentleman clears his throat, and the remaining crew members look at me like I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time. They aren’t wrong, either. “Well, as you can see.” He points toward the house in front of me. No shit, Sherlock. “Demolition is underway. Once demo is taken care of, we evaluate the problems and see which task to tackle first. It’ll likely be the foundation because, well, you can’t have a stable house without it.” He chuckles, and frankly, I don’t find him funny.
“I can clearly see demolition is happening. Thank you for that brilliant revelation. But what I’m mostly curiousabout is who authorized you to do this? I’ve been the one working with Tom to finalize plans, and even so, nothing was scheduled or decided. Also, don’t you need a permit before you can even start?”
He holds up a stack of stapled papers. “Got it right here. City posted it to the front door this morning. And as for authorization, you can talk to that guy.” He points to the front porch, and it’s zero help because there are multiple guys.
I send him a blank stare. “Gonna need you to be a bit more specific.”
“Cowboy hat.”
And that’s when I see it—seehim.
Stetson Cole. My Stetson Cole, standing beside none other than my mother, as he points to the house, telling her god knows what. If I had to guess, it would have something to do with pine trees or horses, neither of which I see here. But I don’t have time to figure it out before my feet are moving, rushing like my ass is on fire, until I’m standing behind both of them.
I tap his shoulder and put my hands on my hips. “Excuse me.”
Blue eyes and salt-and-pepper scruff turn to greet me, and my heart instantly warms. He’s home to me. A home with all the fixins’. I almost forgot why I charged over here to begin with. “Hi, my love. We’ve been waiting on you.” He leans in and kisses my cheek, confusing me even more.
I immediately look at Mom, finding her smiling like a lovesick fool.
“What’s going on here?”
“Hi, honey,” Mom chimes in, pulling me in for a hug. “How was your trip? You andBetsyhave a good time away?” She enunciates “Betsy,” and I know right away I’ve been caught.
“You ratted me out.” I hit Stetson’s stomach, earning myself a chuckle.
Stetson smiles and pulls me into his arms. “Figured honesty was a good place to start when meeting your mother, Cove.”
“Mom, I hadn’t had a chance to tell you about him. You know I would have, right? Everything happened much quicker than I ever expected.”
Mom reaches for my hand. “Honey, I know. You don’t owe me anything, but I have to say, meeting Stetson was a nice surprise. He seems to know you well.”
I look up at him with so much love in my heart. “He does. But he also has some explaining to do.” I look back and forth between them. “Anyone wanna tell me what’s going on? I know plans can’t change that fast in a week.”
“More like sixteen hours,” Stetson notes.
“How?” I sigh because I already know where this is going.
Stetson shrugs, making no effort to apologize, and I wouldn’t expect him to. He’s a giver, no matter how hard a gift like this is to accept. “I made some phone calls.”
“Stet,” I whisper. Tears fill my eyes, and my mom’s grip on my hand tightens. I can feel the relief leave her body. “He’s a good man, sweet girl.”
“But why?” I ask him, unable to look away from my childhood home. The home my mother bought with her own pennies and dimes. The home we first found our footing in after Nathaniel left us.
