Page 3 of A Forever Home
“Both play guitar. They’re very much beginners, but I’m so proud of them.”
“I can tell just looking at you.” A mother should be proud of her children. Roman tried not to make the comparison between Della and his own parents, who were the opposite of proud when it came to him. Growing up, he could do no right, whereas his brother, Brian, could do nothing wrong. Roman could trace that sentiment back to the Christmas he’d singlehandedly ruined. He could also trace his dislike for the holiday to that year.
When it was time to stand, Roman stepped into the aisle and allowed Della to go ahead of him. They left the plane and walked down a long corridor into the airport terminal. Then she turned back to him and offered her hand.
“It was nice meeting you, Roman.”
Roman shook her hand, feeling something warm in his chest along with a sense of regret that he’d probably never see this woman again. “You too, Della. Enjoy your sons’ recitals. Wish them luck for me.”
“Thank you. I will. And I hope you have a Merry Christmas,” she said cheerfully. Now that she was off a moving plane, she looked much calmer.
“Merry Christmas to you as well,” he said, meaning it. As for him, the thing that would make this Christmas the merriest would be skipping it altogether.
***
Della hurried through the airport, her carry-on bag flopping against her left hip while her purse swung off her right shoulder. She’d booked the flights close together to ensure she’d make it home in time. What kind of mom missed her children’s first recital? Not this one. Especially since their new stepmom, Sofia, would be there cheering them on.
Della didn’t want to feel jealous, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to share the boys with the woman who’d stolen her husband. They were Della’s kids. She’d gained fifty pounds during her pregnancy with them and had suffered morning sickness for the first two trimesters. She had loved them since the moment she’d found out she was pregnant, had changed their diapers, and cleaned up after them nearly every day of their lives.
Della stepped into the short line in front of the gate attendant for the small airplane she was about to board. She took a few calming breaths. An hour from now, she’d be landing at the pint-sized airport right outside her hometown of Somerset Lake. Her car was parked there. If things went as planned, she’d be home by mid-morning. She could unpack and relax before heading out to the church this evening. She might even do some last-minute online Christmas shopping.
“Yes ma’am?” the attendant said as Della stepped to the front of the line.
“Hi.” Della laid her ticket down. There wasn’t a boarding line right now, which surprised her. “Is this flight running on time?”
The woman picked up the ticket and looked at it, her over-tweezed brows furrowing. “It should be. But we won’t know until closer to your flight tomorrow.”
Della laughed because that was absurd. “No, my flight is today. Right now actually.” She glanced at the nonexistent boarding line again.
“No, it’s tomorrow,” the woman reiterated, handing the ticket back.
Della looked at the paper in her hand, and instead of laughing, she felt like dissolving into a puddle of tears. “But I booked it for today. I know I did. I need to get home this afternoon, not tomorrow,” she said, her voice rising a panicky octave. “Can you change it for today? I have plans for tonight that I can’t miss.” Because she didn’t want to let her boys down. They needed her, not some stepmother who could never take the place of the real thing.
The gate attendant looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there are no more flights going out this afternoon. The next one isn’t until tomorrow at nine a.m.”
Della’s heart sank as she let go of her carry-on bag, dropping it to the floor. She didn’t even know what to do right now. Wait here at the airport until tomorrow? Get a cab to take her to a hotel?
“But you could rent a car and drive, if your plans are that important,” the attendant suggested. “I don’t know how far you’ve got to go.”
Della blinked. She could have flown into the Asheville Regional Airport, closer to home, but there was no flight availability that would get her home by this evening. Flying into the Charlotte airport left her with a two-hour drive. Maybe three depending on traffic. “Yes, I could rent a car. That would work. Thank you.” She grabbed her bag from the floor and turned. If she hurried, she’d still have plenty of time to freshen up at home before going to the church. Everything would work out just fine.
She sprinted through the airport, eager to get a car. She was also well aware that Roman had been on his way to get a vehicle that he’d reserved to drive to his hometown. Maybe she’d get to say hello to him again. She hoped so.
When Roman had first sat beside her on the plane, he’d been closed off. He’d warmed up, though, and he’d helped her get through her flying anxiety. There was also the fact that he was perhaps the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on. Not every woman would agree, but Della had always liked his type. He had skin that was tanned from the sun, like he worked outside. He also had intense eyes, the color of dark chocolate. Maybe he didn’t like chocolate, but it was her favorite food group.
She rushed toward the car rental section of the airport and pushed through a set of double doors, looking around the room. There were no George Clooney lookalikes in sight. Just a wary reservations clerk behind the counter, who didn’t look all that excited to see Della.
“If you’re looking for a rental car, I just handed out keys for the last one,” the young woman said. “Sorry, but you’re out of luck.”
Chapter Two
While his cell phone was in airplane mode, Roman had dodged all the angry calls and texts from his former employee’s wife. As soon as he’d landed, the notifications had started piling up, though. He dreaded looking at them.
He wasn’t the owner of the construction company where he worked, but he was the manager of the crew. If the guys didn’t pull their weight, they were let go. The owner was adamant about that fact, and he didn’t care what the reasons might be. So Roman had the hard job of letting Bob Coker go yesterday.
Bob had missed several days for a few months in a row due to a sick child at home. Roman wasn’t really sure what exactly was wrong with the child, but he thought it might be serious. Bob had rarely missed a day of work before his son had fallen ill. It wasn’t Bob’s style. If Bob was calling out, Roman guessed it was out of necessity. Even so, Roman had been ordered by his boss to call Bob into his office and break the news—less than a week before Christmas.
Roman felt like a jerk. It wasn’t his decision, of course. But he’d been the one to hand down the news. He’d argued with the company’s owner, but Mr. Wilcox wouldn’t hear of giving Bob any more grace period. He was costing the company money, so he had to be let go.
