Page 7 of Something More

“If we finish early enough and your mom says it’s ok, then yeah. We can come back.” I ruffled his hair. I’d bring him every day if he smiled like this. It felt good knowing I could provide some carefree fun in his life. He’d lost his dad, and if I could give him a little of that back, then I would.

Chapter 4

Dakota

Just as Mom was taking the pot pies out of the oven, I could see the guys coming over the ridge in the distance. The sun was setting, causing their shadows to stretch out far in front of them. I knew which figure was Jack almost immediately. He was skipping and swinging his arms. Hank was flanking one side, and it looked as if Andy was on the other. I could only imagine what they were talking about. My heart squeezed as I thought about these moments that Alex was missing. We’d talked about me moving back home and raising Jack in the country. Alex wanted him to grow up the way I did. I just never thought I’d be a widow at thirty-five.

“You gonna help, or stare at the boys?” Mom called as she waddled toward the table with a steaming casserole dish.

“I’m not staring,” I mumbled as I grabbed a second dish. One thing that hasn’t changed around here is the boys can eat.

“Ok, so you’re checking to make sure they’re coming back here. Is that it?” she teased. “You know, there’s no harm in moving on. It’s been a year. He’d want you to be happy.” She patted my shoulder.

“I know you’re right, but it’s hard, and every time I feel like I’m moving to a good place, it all comes back. The smallest things make me remember what I’ve lost, and then I feel like I’m a terrible person for even trying to move on.” I leaned against the counter and as Mom moved closer, I rested my head on her shoulder. “When will it stop hurting?”

“That I can’t tell you, but I do know that there’s a man out there who’s still carrying a torch for you.” She hugged me.

“How do you know that?” I murmured.

“I’ve seen the way he still looks at you.” She squeezed my hand just as the screen door came flying open and Jack’s feet came thundering inside.

“Mom!” he called as he rounded the corner.

“Did you have fun?” I smiled and ruffled his hair.

“The best. Can I go back tomorrow?” He grinned up at me.

“If Hank invites you, then yes. Go change and get ready for supper.” He took off down the hallway, and I soon heard his feet as he stormed up the stairs to the bedrooms. “Thanks.” I nodded at Hank.

“You’re welcome. We go every day when it’s hot. I’d be happy to watch him.” He smiled softly and then turned to go outside. I watched as his tall, tanned frame walked toward the bunkhouse. As he disappeared into the trees that lined the back of the property, I slowly went back to preparing the table for supper.

It wasn’t long before all the guys came lumbering in, sitting down, and greeting Mom and me with “ma’am” and “miss”. Dad came in from where he’d been working in the office that morning, and as Mom and I carried the last of the dishes to the table, everyone had a seat. “Where’s Jack?” Dad looked around.

“Coming!” he shouted as he skidded to a stop. “Sorry.” His mouth turned down as if he were worried he was in trouble. “I was trying to hang up my wet stuff.” He sat down and folded a napkin in his lap. Dad smiled, and then he said grace.

Everyone helped themselves to pot pie, and then I passed the tea pitcher around.

“You sure have the best food around, Grandma.” Jack shoveled another bite of the chicken into his mouth.

“I bet your mom cooks pretty good, too.” Hank glanced at me before giving his attention back to Jack.

Jack glanced at me, frowned, and then stared at his plate like he was trying to come up with a way to say what was on his mind.

“Codie was never really the one wanting to be in the kitchen with me when she was growing up. It was usually Louise who wanted to follow me around. Codie was always calculating stuff and hanging out in her dad’s office.” Mom smiled gently.

“It shows. Mom can’t cook that great,” Jack mumbled. My dad started laughing, and then the guys chuckled, too.

I turned to stare at Jack. “You know how we always took those fun trips with your dad? It’s because I saved money on other things. Numbers are my thing. Sorry, kid.” I shrugged. He was right. I wasn’t a great cook, but I could find ways to pinch pennies and how to cut costs on just about anything.

“That’s ok.” Hank smiled. “We can’t all be good at everything.”

“My dad was,” Jack whispered. At that moment everyone got quiet and finished eating in silence. I knew he didn’t mean to make things awkward, but Jack had a knack for saying things right when they came into his head, and not thinking about them. I knew he missed Alex as much as I did and I had hoped that bringing him here would help, but he was learning to adjust just like me, and time was the only thing that was helping right now.

When dinner ended, everyone put their plates in the dishwasher, and left to go back to the bunkhouse. I helped Mom clean up, and Jack went into the family room with my dad. I could hear them chatting away about something, and then Jack ran upstairs.

“Everything ok?” I was wiping my hands with a towel when I peered in to see my dad stretching out in his easy chair.

“We’re fine. He’s getting ready for bed, and then I promised I’d tell him a story about you when you were his age.” He smiled as he stared at me. “It’s doesn’t seem like that long ago.”

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