He helped me down from the truck, his calloused hand swallowing mine. I watched with a hint of sadness as he slowly slid out of my grasp. “Yeah, yeah!” He called back. He grabbed my bag from the backseat. “We’re comin’!”
“Alan,” a feminine voice scolded behind a screen door. “Will you give them a second to breathe?”
I wiped my sweaty hands on my pants and followed Colton up the steps into the farmhouse. My corporate Allegra shield was beginning to feel like a flimsy piece of cardboard.
Colton swung the screen door open for me, smiling and slightly nodding as he did. I smiled back at him before being slapped in the face with an incredible smell.
Roast beef, garlic, and something sweet, like a cobbler. Warmth overcame me, but I wasn’t hot; I knew this was the feeling of home.
A home that was lived in, loved in, and currently occupied by over a dozen people.
Kids were screaming and running around the halls, knocking over any furniture that was left standing. I felt Colton’s presence behind me as the screen door slammed shut. I slid out of his way and gestured for him to lead.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you about the madness,” he whispered as he led the way.
I laughed to myself.
He set my suitcase beside the door and slipped off his cowboy boots. I glanced down at the thirteen different pairs, all scattered, and wondered how anyone was going to find their own shoes. I carefully took off my own sandals and set thembeside the boots, feeling vulnerable in my bare feet. There was a coat hook, each spot taken by different cowboy hats and a few worn jackets.
Colton was wearing mismatched socks, one red with a big hole in the toe and one a surprisingly bright pink. He itched the back of his right leg with his left foot and started walking.
As we walked through the living room, I noticed a cursive homemade sign hanging over the floral wallpaper.
May all who enter here as guests leave as family.
My heart leapt to my throat.
A kid practically launched himself at Colton, who, with quick reflexes, caught the boy and laughed. “Easy there!”
I tore my attention away from the dozens of pictures that hung on the walls.
“Will you play with us?” He screamed with a lisp.
“We’re gonna eat supper right now. I’ll play with you after we eat!” He promised, setting the kid back down.
The kid groaned his way back to the kitchen.
Colton led me through the big living room into the kitchen. “Smells good, Mamma. What we eatin’?” He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek.
I smiled at the casualness of his affection.
My gosh, that kitchen was gorgeous. Thick wood countertops with creamy green cabinets, a sink as deep as a bathtub, and a huge oak dining table with different colored chairs. The appliances were all vintage, adding to the rustic charm. Even the gingham wallpaper, though faded and outdated, looked perfect. The trim next to the pantry door was scribbled with marks,
Jimmy age 9
Colton age 7
Alan age 5
Dean age 5
I smiled at the little marks, thinking about what it was like raising boys so close in age.
“Well, there she is!”
I tore my attention away from the height board. Dennis was walking toward me with wide-open arms.
“How was the flight, kiddo?”
