Page 29 of Hometown Heart

Silas:You free? Got something to show you.

"Well damn," Brooks said, grinning. "Look who finally decided to get in the game."

The three minutes it took Jack to walk over amounted to the longest wait of my life. Brooks mysteriously slipped away.

Jack stopped a few feet away from me, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Hey."

"Hey." I swallowed hard, unsure where to start. The morning's conversation hung between us, but his expression was open and curious.

"Heard you took a day off."

"Yeah." I gestured toward the truck bed. "Found something in Camden."

Jack walked around to look, and I watched his face as he examined the display case. He traced the brass fittings with his fingers.

"It's beautiful. The proportions and the detailing... you don't see craftsmanship like this anymore." He glanced at me. "Needs a little bit of work."

"I know. But I thought..." I took a breath. "I thought maybe you might want to help. With the restoration."

His hand stopped moving. "Yeah?"

"You mentioned wanting a project. Something to do with your hands when you're not coaching or drafting." The words flowed easier than they had in days. "And I've got all my grandfather'sold tools, but I've never really learned how to use them properly."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "So, you're saying you need my expertise?"

"I'm saying I want to share this with you." The honesty of my comment surprised me.

Jack stepped close enough that I could smell a mix of coffee and wool. "This morning, you could barely look at me. Now you're asking me to help restore antique furniture?"

"I know." I ran a hand through my hair. "I drove to Camden, trying not to think about you. But everything I saw there, every damn thing, I kept wondering what you'd think of it. If you'd like it. If Cody would get excited about it."

"Silas—"

"And then I found this," I pressed on, needing to get the words out. "It reminded me of Tidal Grounds when it was still only a rundown bait shop. How scared I was to change it and make it something new."

Jack was quiet for a moment, studying me with his dark eyes. "That's a lot of meaning to attach to one piece of furniture."

"Yeah, well." I managed a small smile. "I spend too much time with poets."

Jack laughed softly, and then he reached out for my hand. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Let's restore it. Together." His thumb brushed across my knuckles. "But you should know, I'm not only saying yes to the furniture."

From across the parking lot, Cody's voice rang out: "Dad! Are we still getting hot chocolate?"

Jack didn't let go of my hand. Instead, he called back, "Hey bud, come check out what Silas found!"

As Cody jogged over, I realized my fear was dissipating. Somehow, my anticipation outweighed the trepidation.

When I returned to Tidal Grounds, the sun was starting to set, painting long shadows across the nearly empty café. We'd managed to get the display case inside—Jack insisted on checking the floor's weight tolerance first. Now it sat in its designated corner, waiting for its transformation.

Cody perched on a nearby stool, swinging his legs. "Dad, can we work on it this weekend? I've never restored anything before."

"We'll see, bud." Jack rested his hip against the counter, watching his son with fond amusement. "Might need to do some research first. Make sure we do it right."

I busied myself making hot chocolate—Cody's usual and something new I'd been working on for Jack, a subtle blend of dark chocolate and espresso. The familiar motions helped steady my hands.

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