Page 27 of Here With Me

Nate picked up a box and set it on the workbench. He wiped his hands on his jeans and then opened it. “You are in a unique position to understand that little girl’s grief.”

“I wasn’t that young when my mom died. And I’m not sure what happened to my father. He could still be out there for all I know.”

“Even so, you understand loss.”

“Last night when I went to bed, all I could think about was Sadie and Lottie. I need to remain focused.” On Costa Rica. Not on what-ifs and what would never be.

Nate put the brush back in the box and closed it up. “It’s okay to think about something other than yourself, David.”

Returning to Costa Rica wasn’t being selfish. Serving God required sacrifice, and David was giving up everything. Besides, by giving up family, he couldn’t hurt the people he loved. David thrust his shaking hands forward. “I don’t shake at the hardware store. Explain that.”

Nate moved the box and set it down, clapping his hands to remove some of the dust that had collected there. “Human interaction, David. How does it feel? A good woman?—”

“No, Nate. Don’t go there.”

“What happened between you two?”

A complete misunderstanding. “I messed up.” David leaned against the tool bench, crossing his arms against his chest. “All these years I thought when she walked away from me, that she was breaking up with me. Turns out she thought I broke up with her. She said she would have followed me anywhere. I wonder if my mistakes started before I even knew that I was making them.”

Nate opened another box and pulled out a cardboard tube. He held it up and shrugged. David had no idea what was in there. Nate opened the top and dumped the papers on the worktable.

“What’s that?” David looked at the papers Nate unrolled, the edges worn and yellowed, and placed them on the workbench.

“Those look like the old plans or surveys for the farm. Those should really be inside.” Nate rolled the papers back up and carefully put them back inside the tube, setting them aside.

David selected another box and opened it. A huge clock packaged inside with the words Heritage, Michigan printed neatly along the top. The Victorian house that had once sat on the town square was painted a muted black behind the watch hands.

“Is there a chance you and Sadie could pick up where you left off?” Nate set the tube of plans by the barn door and packed up the box they came from.

“Sadie was quick to point out how much we’ve changed.” David ran his fingers along the filagree of the clock inside the box. “Our futures and our dreams. Hers is here with Lottie, and I can’t argue with that. I wouldn’t want to hurt her. Again.”

“Mistakes don’t have to end a relationship, but walking away from one does. Talk to her. Apologize. Move on. People make mistakes, David. Every day. You can ask Olivia how many times I’ve messed up. But you know what? I apologize, she forgives me, and we move on. That’s how relationships work.”

David shook his head. It couldn’t be that simple. Because his dad had messed up. His mom forgave him, and then his dad messed up again. Over and over. David couldn’t fall into that pattern.

“Did you find the lawnmower blades? You’ve been looking at that box for a while.” Nate peeked in the box, the large clock face still frozen in time. Nate let out a whistle. “That’s a piece of Heritage history right there.”

History. In part of Lottie’s rambling yesterday, she had talked about her history project and how she wanted something unique and different to write about. “Know anything about this clock?”

Nate shook his head.

“Lottie says the fourth graders are all writing a paper about the history of Heritage for that town fair in October.” He could take the clock into the hardware store. Show Lottie. Maybe he could even give her the clock and quit his job. “Do you think the board would be okay if I quit my job at Hoover’s?”

Nate picked up another box and let it thud on the workbench. “Why would you quit?”

“Really? We’ve been over this. Sadie and I are in different places. Plus, I’m not sure if I’m good for Lottie.”

Nate nodded. “If we’re playing connect the dots, I’m not following that order. Doesn’t Sadie need help at the hardware store?”

“Of course she does.”

“And you can’t provide that help?”

He’d helped patch up the wall, repaint. And made some pretty decent sales.

He heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet growing louder, and David turned to see Charis running toward him at her two-year-old top speed. “Unca David!”

He knelt and scooped her up. “Hey, Charis!”

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