Page 84 of Freedom's Kiss
Chapter 34
Adam checked his watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. Where were they?
“Do I need to take that thing from you?” His mom leaned over and whispered, though she needn’t have bothered. No one would be able to hear her over Trent shouting out ridiculous answers. Summer stood at the easel chalkboard, the same one all the Carrington siblings had played with as kids, tapping frantically at a picture of obviously-Trent-didn’t-know-what with a white stub of chalk, pieces flying at her excitement. The hourglass timer trickled its last grain of sand, and Summer groaned.
“It’smigration!” She threw her hands up in the air. “How could you not get that?”
Trent crossed his legs out in front of him, unaffected by his wife’s frustration. “Sweetheart, you may be brilliant with a camera, but you can’t draw worth a lick.”
She anchored her hands at her hips and gave him a disgruntled look before turning to Amber. “Help me out here. You got it, right?”
Mom watched the exchange, so Adam turned his wrist toward him and tried to stealthily catch the time.
Anita Carrington still had eyes in the back of her head. “I saw that.”
Amber pulled on her ear. “Sorry, Summer. I didn’t getmigrationfrom a bunch ofVs andWs.”
Summer pronounced a pout as she placed the chalk on the holder and plopped down next to her husband. “They’re supposed to be geese flying south for the winter. You know,migrating.”
Trent pecked a kiss to Summer’s cheek. “You’re beautiful when you get all riled.”
She backhanded his chest, but at the same time blushed and allowed a smile to peek through.
Dad rubbed his hands together. “Who’s up next?”
Adam slid his phone from under his thigh and clicked the Home button to illuminate the screen. Still nothing.
He wished he could have blamed Pictionary for his agitation, but it wasn’t the game’s fault. He never should have agreed to let Olivia pick Michael and Jack up from the airport. At least not alone. But his mom had left a pointed voicemail on his phone reminding him of family game night and the fact that he’d missed the last one. If he missed two in a row, he’d likely be the recipient of an intervention of some sort.
Adam stood and pocketed his phone, running his other hand through his hair, the strands stiff with product. He’d have to get out of the habit of doing that again now that he dressed for the courtroom and not the food truck. “Anyone want a drink?”
“Sweet tea, please,” Amber requested, followed by an “Oh, that sounds good” from Summer.
He nodded, then walked around the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen. As he opened the refrigerator and retrieved the pitcher of tea, he pulled out his phone and texted a quick message to Olivia.
Where are you guys? I need an ETA.
“It’s good to see you like this.”
His mom’s voice made him fumble his phone, but he caught it midair and returned it to the front pocket of his pants. Turning, he elbowed the refrigerator door closed and set the pitcher on the counter. He pulled down three glasses. “Like the lawyer look better, do you?”
She leaned her hip against the counter and studied him. “I like the peaceful look.”
He poured tea into the glasses. So much had changed in the last few days. Still required some getting used to. But the absence of crushing weight? The free, untethered, unchained expanse in his middle? God was helping him embrace that.
His phone vibrated. Well, maybe a little tethering still existed. Lightness filled his chest. But this cord that wrapped around and bound him he didn’t want to be released from. Ever. Because it wound and covered him heart and soul. Instead of squeezing the life out of him, it imbued him with a sweet strength and determination to meet every challenge head on. Not alone. Never alone.
A triple-braided cord is not easily broken.
His mom stepped forward and grabbed two of the glasses. “I’ll take these out.”
As she rounded the corner, he slipped his hand into his pocket and ran his finger over the braided length newly attached to his keychain. He’d found it in an envelope taped to his front door the day after he’d met with Curtis Haywood. A note accompanied the keychain with a verse from Ecclesiastes.A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken. You, me, and God, Adam. A triple-braided cord. Nothing can break us. Xoxo, Olivia.
He took a sip of sweet tea and pulled out his phone to check the text. Five minutes. Downing the rest of his drink, he placed the glass in the sink and returned to the living room.
“Ready?” he asked as he picked up a new piece of chalk. No way would he risk fingernails on the board from a small stub.
Dad scratched his chin. “I thought it was Amber’s turn.”
