Page 68 of Campaign Season
Candace’s smile widened, and a soft laugh escaped her. “Oh, he liked it more than you think. Do you remember that Christmas he took all three of you shopping? You disappeared, and when he finally found you…”
Marianne groaned, already smiling. “Under a clothes rack.”
Candace nodded, laughter bubbling as the memory came alive. “There you were, all crammed under one round rackof winter coats, giggling like maniacs. Your father was beside himself; half furious, half trying not to laugh. He swore he’d never take you shopping again.”
“He didn’t,” Jonah said, grinning through his tears.
“No,” Candace agreed softly. “But he never stopped telling that story.”
For a moment, the heaviness lifted. The memory—warm, ridiculous, alive—threaded them together in a way that only family stories could.
“He was happy to be here this week,” Candace said. She hadn’t planned to mention Lucas, but the words found her anyway. She sighed. “He said something to me when I walked him upstairs last night.”
Silence hovered.
“He said, ‘I can’t wait to see him.’ Lucas.” Her voice caught, but she steadied it. “He was smiling.”
Marianne sniffled.
“He was ready,” Candace told her children gently. “He wanted to leave you while you were laughing—a good memory. It meant a lot to him to have this year with all of you.”
“Neither of you ever talks about it—our brother,” Jonah said.
Candace nodded. “We should have. Neither of us knew how, Jonah. It’s a pain I can’t really explain—losing a child. We laugh now about you hiding under that clothes rack. And your dad laughed later, too. But in that moment, when he couldn’t find you, he was terrified.” She smiled faintly. “Your dad loved you. More than he always knew how to show. I know this much—he was proud of all of you.”
She cleared her throat and stood. “It’s been a long day. Tomorrow will be longer still.” A wink softened her words. “Sugar-hyped kids, no doubt.” She reached for Jameson’s hand. “Come on. We’ll put them down.”
“Mom, you don’t need to—” Marianne began.
“No. We can do it,” Scott added.
“Sit down, Scott,” Candace said firmly, though her smile softened the edge.
Jameson leaned down, scooping Avery into her arms.
“Brody,” Candace said, “you and your sister and JJ need to brush your teeth.”
Their collective groan earned a raised brow.
“Okay, Nana,” JJ said, resigned.
Candace glanced at Jonah. “I’ll take Sophie.”
“She can sleep here for now,” Jonah said softly.
Candace smiled. “All right. Goodnight, then.”
“Mom, you and JD don’t need to leave,” Michelle said.
“Let us make our exit gracefully,” Candace replied.
“Night, Mom. Night, JD,” Marianne said.
“We’ll see you in the morning,” Jameson promised.
Jameson followed Candace up the stairs.
Conspiratorial whispering filtered from the bathroom into the hallway. Candace giggled.
