Page 5 of Letters From Home

Curiosity got the best of her, and she began tearing open the envelope as she walked back to her porch. She sat on the steps and tugged out a colorful card printed with cheerful seashells. It was something you'd find at the town's tourist shops.

Inside, someone had written “Welcome home. I’m glad you’re back!” in sloppy handwriting. She flipped the envelope and card around. There was no signature.

Besides Nick and Grant, who knew she was back? Sure, she’d met a few people at the local Lutheran church. But while they were all friendly enough, they didn’t seem the type to leave an unsigned card in her mailbox. They’d gone out of their way, too. She wasn’t exactly in the middle of town.

As Jessica pondered this little mystery, she thought back to Nick’s goofy grin. He’d seemed delighted to meet Jack. Most men acted differently once they discovered she had a child—Nick had treated her and Jack like old friends. Maybe he had left the card?

A small part of her hoped it wasn’t Nick. She didn’t have time for a matchmaker-turned-construction-worker in her life right now. She had more important things to deal with, like the little boy sleeping inside her run-down house.

Sure, it was lonely being a single parent. But her job was to focus on Jack.

Chapter three

Nick

Nick grunted as theypulled out the old window and eased it onto the floor. Since he’d broken the windowsill, they would start in the kitchen and work their way around the house.

He braced himself as they ripped out the surrounding plaster, removing the worst of the water damage. The floor seemed solid, but they’d be lucky if there wasn’t rot hiding beneath their feet.

“I guess you didn’t need superhuman strength to break this windowsill,” Grant joked. “The salt air and rain gave you a head start.”

“This might take longer than we thought,” Nick said, staring at the gap they’d exposed. They needed to rip out more plaster to check the wall studs for damage, and patch it all back up. “A lot longer. We’ve never had to gut a house before.”

Grant shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve got the whole winter, and no other jobs. I want to do this right.”

Nick felt a rush of relief as they finished ripping away the ruined plaster. The surrounding wall studs and floorboards werestill solid. They had a big job ahead of them, but at least the house seemed structurally sound.

He was turning to share his thoughts with Grant when Nick heard little feet pounding across the floor. Jack rushed toward them.

“Hi! Hi! Our window is gone,” the boy said, pointing and laughing at the hole in their kitchen wall.

“Jack, get back here right now! Sorry about that.” Jessica grabbed for Jack’s hand, pulling him to the doorway of the kitchen. “We’ll be out of your hair soon. I’m meeting an old friend for coffee.”

Nick tucked his hammer back into his tool belt and nodded. “There’s no rush. Do you want to watch us fix your house, kiddo?”

“Yeah!” Jack cheered, tugging out of his mom’s grasp and rushing toward the men. “Can I help?”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “We don’t have extra tools, but you can hand me the nails when I’m ready for them.”

The three worked quickly over the next half-hour. Nick and Grant lined up each piece of plywood, then hammered the new wall into place as Jack handed them nails.

It was time to slide the new window into place when Jessica spoke up. “Jackster, it’s time to get going. Tell our friends thank you, and go find your coat.”

“Thank you,” the boy parroted. “It was a lot of fun!”

“Come back in ten years. I might have a job for you when you’re older,” Grant promised, holding his hand out to offer a high-five. “You were a big help today.”

Nick held his hand out, too. “I’d take him on my crew,” he agreed, letting the boy slap his hand as hard as Jack's little arm allowed.

Jessica let out a laugh, pointing her son toward their winter coats. “Get your shoes and coat on, Jack. I need to talk to Jack for a minute.”

Uh-oh. Nick’s heart beat faster. It sounded like he was in trouble. Maybe she’d found the card in the mailbox. Anonymous letters might not be the best way to get someone’s attention.

She gestured to the side of the room, away from Grant. “I got a letter yesterday,” she confirmed. “The person didn’t sign it. Was it from you?”

Nick pinched his lips together, trying to decide if it was better to come clean. “A letter? That sounds friendly. Written communication is becoming a lost art.”

Jessica put her hands on her hips and stared him in the eyes. “Friendly. Sure. It said ‘welcome home.’ But while it was very thoughtful, I’d like to know who sent it.”

---